


A Question of Responsibility

by WhyIsEveryNameAlwaysTaken



Series: Clash of Two Magic Worlds [2]
Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-07-20 10:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19991023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyIsEveryNameAlwaysTaken/pseuds/WhyIsEveryNameAlwaysTaken
Summary: Sequel to No Way Back:Marcone's recruiting practitioners, the Monsters are on the move, and Chicago is about to recieve some very annoying visitors. Of course, that's precisely when crime decides to strike. Dresden has just had about enough - but who else is going to take care about it?Took me long enough, but here's part 2!^^ I don't think/hope you don't need to read part 1, but it'll be much easier to understand. I'll do my best to kind of summarize what happened in part 1. Mostly because that's what Harry always does in the books, I think. (Setting: still Broken Barrier/ after White Night)





	1. Chapter 1

## Dresden

### Ten Pin Alley

_I’m too old for this._

That’s what I thought while I sprinted through the tiled, sparsely lit floors of an abandoned storage building on the outskirts of Chicago. Thomas, my disgustingly fit-and-handsome-without-trying vampire half-brother running just a few yards in front of me, didn’t seem to share my evaluation of the situation. Instead, he pushed through a door, shoulder hitting metal, and kept up our improvised emergency exit – only to lead us right into a boiler room. He turned back to me, arms raised in a sheepish ‘any ideas?’ fashion.

Dead end.

A bullet whizzing right past my ear gave me new motivation to pick up the speed. I bustled through the now open door, whirled around and kicked it closed. I took a second to catch my breath and summon my will, and just as our pesky pursuers audibly closed in on the door, I whipped up a gust of wind; strong enough to break the metal barrier between us and them from its hinges and blast it through the aisle we had come from. On its way, it crashed into our persecutors with a couple of satisfying muffled groans.

Thomas came back – now that the tables had turned, _of course_ – and inspected my handiwork.

“Think that got all of them?”

“Maybe I should consider a career in professional bowling,” I retorted. Down the hall, there were now the unmoving bodies of three of our pursuers – completely knocked out by the door. They were Marcone’s men – certainly not the highest quality he had, but good enough shots – and had been assigned with the dull task of guarding the contents of a certain box.

A box the Council hat assigned me to find and entrust to them once recovered.

A box my brother had had tucked under his arm until now. Holding it out in front of him, he frowned at the closed lid.

“What’s in this, anyway?” He had been dragged into this mess somewhat by chance and hadn’t had the chance to ask when I had tossed him the box earlier.

“McGuffin,” I answered curtly, staring along the aisle again. We’d have to go the whole way back to get out of the building, only…

“Uh huh,” Thomas deadpanned, returning it to me.

The shadow of a slender figure became visible against the floor’s walls – the person belonging to it had to be in the side passage at a right angle to us, unsure about how to proceed.

Quietly, I clicked my tongue. “Didn’t get the practitioner.”

Recently, Marcone had started hiring people with a magical affinity. No people strong enough for the Council to take notice and react, but skilled enough to raise their odds. The type that feels special and wants it to be recognized, but isn’t actually special _enough_ to be impressive. In other words, easy to hire and manipulate, if you knew which buttons to push.

I suppose it made sense, what with Marcone being the first human freeholding baron under the Unseelie Accords now, but that didn’t mean I liked it. What I liked even less was him forming them into perfectly capable killers—even without their expanded skills. The man knew the Seven Laws of Magic well enough to be sure to tell his people not to kill with their magic. Killing with anything _else_ , however, was fair game – as far as the Council was concerned. 

As a result of his newest recruitments, Elaine Mallory had contacted me more often as of late. The woman was a relic of my past, my first girlfriend and love, then presumed traitor, then presumed dead; someone who I wasn’t sure I could trust but did anyway – an uncertain relationship, to be sure. She had also started to aid the setup of the Paranet – a Network of low-level magical talents, aimed to support its members in dealing with their prowess. Elaine had complained about how the Network got dragged into Marcone’s latest hiring practices. Seemingly, the boss of Chicago’s underworld could be a very persuasive employer. Very stubborn too, in my experience.

“Shouldn’t be too difficult for you, right?” Thomas dragged me out of my stupor. The shadow of Marcone’s practitioner had halted in its place – perhaps its owner was contemplating if he or she were willing to take their chances against me and my brother, or later against Marcone, empty-handed, failed in their mission.

I sighed, covered my face with my free hand and mumbled a spell; a short moment later, a surprised shout came from the side passage and the shadow had disappeared.

“Let’s go,” I said, now slightly annoyed. I hated playing the Council’s errand-boy, and if this wasn’t a “retrieval of magical item” – job, then I didn’t know what was.

We rounded the corner of the aisle and passed the struggling, semi-desperate practitioner – it was a young man, barely passing 18, and even that only if you squinted – who had gotten stuck in the sinkhole I had conjured up. Usually, I never get the chance to use a spell like that.

Usually, my opponents know that fighting involves movement.

“Maybe get yourself another job while you still can,” I said, nodding at him. Part of me wanted to reach out to him and drag him out, but his defiant stare told me enough to know that it would only lead to an unnecessary struggle for the McGuffin.

The newcomers never know when to stay down.

Exiting the building, Thomas seemed to have decided that staying around wasn’t worth the trouble. I got an exaggerated “Au revoir, mon frère! Le devoir m’appelle!” in a flamboyant tone, a hand raised laxly to wave as he jogged away – presumably to do the hairdresser job he’d gotten himself. I’d found out about that one almost half a year ago – he used the work to feed off of his clients in small doses, all the while play-acting as a gay pseudo-French guy. To say I wasn’t happy about him using it as an opportunity to get in on his clients’ life force would be a euphemism if I’ve ever heard one. But I knew he wouldn’t stop, and any further pestering from my side wouldn’t get me anywhere.

I frowned at the innocuous box under my arm.

All he needed to do was fool around and play with rich women’s hair, and my brother’s job probably paid better than mine ever would.

That suspicion was only substantiated after I had delivered the box and its contents to the middle man who would take it to wherever it was supposed to be and received my reward directly. Normally, the payment would have been transferred, but for small sums such as this, it seemed as if the higher ups didn’t want to bother. I stashed it away without a comment and went on my way home.


	2. Hello Neighbor

## Dresden

### Hello Neighbor

Reaching the floor leading to my flat around lunchtime, I almost had to do a double take.

Don’t get me wrong – it’s not like I don’t ever have visitors. But most of the time they hardly count as visitors. It’s usually delivery personnel of some sort – which is mostly sent to my office, anyway – or the typical door-to-door salesman. Sometimes, girl scouts – the boardinghouse I was part of housed mostly elderly, very eager to buy every last crumbling cookie offered to them.

My neighbors themselves didn’t bother much with me, unless they needed some small task done – like shoveling away the snow in winter. Everyone else that came to my apartment and not my office, I usually knew – Murphy, Michael, a demon that one time – any of my small group of friends and/or considerably larger group of enemies.

Right now, there were two figures standing in front of my door – one tall and slender except for his rather broad shoulders, covered by a somewhat ill-fitting sports t-shirt – the other very short, especially in contrast to his companion, and a bit more on the chubby end. Both of them had their backs turned to me, the chubby one rocking back and forth on his feet, the other standing straight, seemingly holding something in front of him with one hand, knocking against my door thrice in a precise manner with the other. He paused for a moment, then lifted his hand again and repeated the action.

Despite never having seen either of them, I had the growing suspicion that I knew them.

“Can I help you two?” I asked from a distance. I kept a relaxed stance but stayed on alert—they didn’t give off a dangerous vibe, but keeping up your foresight’s usually a smarter move than regretting in hindsight.

My visitors turned – the chubby one slowly, the tall one abrupt – and both greeted me with a grin, one lazy, one giddy. They looked more or less human, but… _off_. Their faces weren’t unlike masks formed by a semi-skilled artist. Their hair seemed to grow in unnatural strands – which wasn’t too obvious with the most basic brown hair-mat the short one had gone with, but was _very much obvious_ with the elaborate blonde style the tall one wore. It was more reminiscent of the hairdo in comics than anything else. In fact, the short one probably would have fitted in any crowd without any problems, were it not for the grin that was definitely too wide for his face. His companion, however, would have stood out anywhere.

By now, I had a pretty good idea who was standing before me, and the relaxed stance stopped being a front.

The tall not-quite-human waved at me enthusiastically, and once I heard his voice, all doubts were pushed out of the way.

“HELLO, NEIGHBOR! AS A CUSTOM OF HUMAN POLITENESS REQUIRES, WE WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE TO PRESENT YOU WITH A ‘WE-HAVE-MOVED-IN’ PIE. IT IS NICE TO MEET YOU, TOTAL STRANGER WHOM WE HAVE NEVER MET BEFORE!” He _audibly_ winked at his short companion, who winked back, grinning at him encouragingly. “LET ME INTRODUCE US TO YOU, NEW NEIGHBOR! I AM THE GREAT CLAVICUS! LAST NAME: MARIS! BECAUSE A SURNAME IS SOMETHING A HUMAN – WHICH I OBVIOUSLY AM – USUALLY HAS!”

Hoo boy. I deadpanned, but I was struggling to keep a straight face and play along. Fortunately, _Clavicus_ continued on his own, no problem.

“AND IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING: THIS IS MY BROTHER – HUGH MARIS!” 

After saying the name out loud, he froze, blinking. “WAIT. SA- _HUGH_! YOUR NAME! YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOON!”

_Hugh_ chuckled. **“t’s my name, bro.”** His eyes rolled to the side, definitely farther than they should have been able to. **“what, _hugh_ don’t like it?**

“UGH! BROTHER! STOP IT!”

I decided to put an end to the act before it got too painful. Or before I lost my composure and couldn’t hold in my laugh anymore.

“Alright, just a second.” I passed the two and deactivated the wards, opened the door and stepped aside.

“Papyrus, Sans – come in.”

Papyrus’s fake-human face-mask fell – literally, his forehead almost stretched over half his head before he could rein it back in, looking eerily like effects in a cheap horror movie – and he stared at me in shock.

“OH NO! WHAT GAVE IT AWAY?” His eyes, in their correct place again, narrowed. “IT WAS THE PUNS, WASN’T IT?”

I kept a straight face. “Sure.”

“I KNEW IT! I SHOULD HAVE BEEN SUSPICIOUS OF YOUR SHENANIGANS THE SECOND YOU PROPOSED TO THINK OF A LAST NAME, SANS! ONE OF THESE DAYS, YOUR PUN-OBSESSION WILL BLOW OUR COVER!”

With that, he strode inside confidently, leaving Sans and me at the doorstep.

**“thanks for playing along, buddy,”** Sans mumbled in his grin, shuffling over the threshold. His human appearance disappeared the moment I closed the door, revealing the skeleton underneath the disguise.

It had been about three months since I had last seen the skeleton brothers. Back then, I had been called to Colorado, specifically to Mt. Elbert – a mountain near Aspen. A back then very distressed middle-school teacher by the name of Mrs. Harris had asked for my help in the search of her students. The kids had gone missing during the way back on their school trip.

I found one of the children on my first hike. On my second, I stumbled across a camp of roundabout five hundred Monsters, capitalization intended. They had come from an until then closed off dimension and were now stranded on the mountain, unsure of how to proceed or interact with humanity. Their king and queen – because _of course_ they had to be a monarchy; who has ever heard of a magical community that favored a democratic system – had proceeded to greet me and gouge out exactly how dangerous I was going to be for their kind. Having been on my best behavior, obviously, they didn’t opt for chasing me away immediately—which was a nice enough change of pace, I guess. Instead, I stayed for a while, getting to know some of the major players of the Monster species; and Frisk, a human kid with way too many issues for their age.

Most of the lost students were sooner or later also found on the campsite. Contrary to the label of their species, most of the Monsters were a bunch of really nice people, once you got to know them – very much unlike a certain demon-ghost-child – Chara – that had followed them out of their previous realm. Chara had an uncanny knack for possessing souls and make their hosts do their bidding – which ended up in two dead children, a fight between Chara and a ragtag group on my side.

We won, but in the end, when I wasn’t watching, Chara successfully led one of the lost students – a girl called Mandy – into a trap, possessing her and fleeing the site. And if that wasn’t enough, of course Mandy had to be the one child with enough magical prowess to be considered at least a practitioner; although I had never been able to confirm where exactly she’d stand in terms of power.

Naturally, after outlawing Mandy, the Council – by which I mean the Merlin – had had a field day blaming me for the disappearance of the girl. It didn’t matter that I had been unconscious at the time. You take on a problem, you’re responsible for carrying it out. In that spirit, as I had been the one to find the Monsters, the Council had also pushed the task of looking out for them and playing diplomat onto me. Which meant that I would be made responsible for any and every misstep Monsterkind made.

Thankfully, the Monsters had been playing it safe ever since. After their king had given himself to the Council as a political hostage to assure peace between the Wizard Council and his people, Queen Toriel had elected a small Monster council of her own, making plans on how to continue. For now, they had decided to stay on the mountain – which had been temporarily magically closed off, so no humans could stumble upon them on accident. The last update I had gotten from them had been about a week ago. Their veiling devices – some sort of Monster-Magic-Tech – supposedly had entered a stage where Monsters with sufficient control over their magic could disguise as humans and mix in without being detected. 

If that was what I was looking at now, then there was still ample room for improvement.

Papyrus, who still donned his human appearance, had, for lack of a table, placed the pie onto the working surface of my alcove kitchen and was already curiously probing every inch of my small flat. Meanwhile, Sans had made himself comfortable on my couch, lying on his back, my massive cat Mister on his stomach-area. It looked a bit surreal – his clothes should have been pressed flat by Mister’s sheer weight. That’s what happens when that half-tiger decides to grace _me_ with the honor of making me his throne. And I actually had something substantial underneath my shirt.

Scratching Mister behind the ears, Sans blinked at me with one of the blue lights sitting in his sockets.

**“your place’s pretty dark,”** he commented.

I went on to light a few candles and put the fireplace to work—with Papyrus’ enthusiastic assistance, that took me almost twice as long as it normally did, but there is no way to deny that guy anything.

“I WILL NOW GO AND INSPECT THE BATHROOM!” Papyrus announced when the tasks where done to his satisfaction, and so he did.

I stepped up to the couch to see that Sans had fallen asleep, Mister curled up atop him.

“So. What’s the deal? What are you doing here?” I asked, knowing his sleep to be false. For one, I doubted Sans snored.

**“it’s a neighbor-greeting tradition,”** Sans answered without opening the eyelids he shouldn’t have in the first place. **“paps made one pie for each apartment. was working on it the whole day yesterday. has that new recipe from tori.”**

Ha ha, Sans. Very funny.

“If you’ve actually been going door-to-door looking like you do now, you’re lucky most of the residents can’t tell a person from a conveniently shaped lamp,” I replied sardonically. For some reason, Sans seemed to find that picture particularly amusing.

**“yeah, well, for all the better it’s gotten, the device’s development’s still in its alpha-phase,”** he finally said. **“also, paps’ disguise normally looks better. but he’s been trying to keep it up even while sleeping.”** The skeleton opened one eye and squinted at me. **“consequently, he hasn’t been sleeping for some time now.”**

“Stop skirting the topic,” I said, crossing my hands in front of my chest; a clear sign to cut the small talk. “Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture and all—but why are you here _in Chicago_?”

**“tori wants me to scope out the place as a possible living place for us,”** he drawled, returning to stroking Mister. **“can’t stay on that mountain for forever. all eggs in one basket and all that.”**

“AND OF COURSE _I_ HAD TO ACCOMPANY HIM! SOMEONE HAS TO WATCH OUT THAT HE DOES HIS JOB PROPERLY, AFTER ALL!”

Papyrus, finished with inspecting my bathroom, strode back into the main room.

“I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY PLACED A RUBBER DUCKY IN YOUR SHOWER, FRIEND!” He exclaimed proudly. “I CAME TO NOTICE THAT YOU DID NOT, IN FACT, HAVE ONE YET!”

“Thanks, Papyrus,” I managed.

“DO NOT MENTION IT! IT WAS MY PLEASURE!” He put his hands on his hips and straightened up even more. His human-ish eyes – blue, and a little too big for his face – narrowed. “SANS! THIS IS NOT YOUR HOME! YOU CANNOT SIMPLY OCCUPY THE HUMAN’S COUCH!”

Sans shrugged. **“nah. didn’t tell me to get off _so-fa_.”**

Before Papyrus could comment on that, the main door opened, and in came Molly, sporting a figure-hugging black leather jacket, ripped red leggings and her usual high boots. In her left hand, she was carrying a bag of groceries, in the other she held Mouse’s leash. For just a short while, she froze, taking in the scene, then proceeded to throw her leather jacket onto the coat hanger facing the door.

“Hi, Harry. So, should I make portions for four?” She asked. Instead of an answer, she received an excited gasp from Papyrus, who then went on to run up to her and pull her into a hug, lifting her up in the process. Mouse, my big fluffy behemoth of a dog, trotted inside, not reacting to our visitors with more than a cognizant side-glance, and lied down next to the fireplace.

“WHAT A GREAT SURPRISE! WELCOME, OTHER FRIEND!”

“Still not down with the whole name concept, huh, Paps?” Molly uttered, before letting herself smile and return the greeting. The two of them had been in phone contact regularly, and grown a lot closer over time.

The disguised skeleton put her back down and Molly took a step back, scrutinizing him.

“Wow. You look like a warped, stretched version of Cloud from Final Fantasy,” she snorted. Papyrus’ eyes lit up in astonishment, while I was left wondering who the hell that was supposed to be.

“WOWIE! INDEED, FRISK HAD BEEN SHOWING THE GAME TO ME RECENTLY! YOU RECOGNIZED THE SOURCE OF MY INSPIRATION! THAT MEANS I MUST HAVE DONE A MARVELLOUS JOB, RIGHT?”

Molly pressed her lips together as to not burst out laughing. “Sure you did. You always do.” She threw a quick glance behind him and nodded at the couch-squatter.

“Hey, Sans. Where’s _your_ disguise?”

**“at the cleaners,”** the skeleton hummed noncommittally.

My student rolled her eyes at him and turned back to Papyrus. “You know, I was just about to test out a new recipe. You wanna chop some veggies with me?” She lifted the bag of groceries in question.

Papyrus clapped gleefully. “OF COURSE!”

And with that, the two of them took over the alcove kitchen. I raised my hands in defeat.

“Sure, welcome to my flat. I’m just passing through, I hope I’m not disturbing anyone.”

“NO WORRIES, HUMAN! YOU CERTAINLY ARE NOT DISTURBING US!”

Sans snickered. I sat down in the armchair facing the sofa, shutting out the vibrant chattering of my student and her skeleton friend.

“Fill me in, Sans—what’s going on and what are the next plans? I’m pretty sure I’ll have to report to the Council if you’re moving here.” I raised an eyebrow. “You’re not staying at _my_ apartment, though. I hope that’s clear.” Not that I’d have thrown them out if they really didn’t have any place to stay, but I didn’t have to wave around that part of altruism, ready to be taken advantage of.

Sans nodded slowly.

**“’course not. we’re here as neighbors, not room-mates,”** he assured me. I thought of the flat that had become unoccupied for a few weeks now, due to its resident’s… timely passing. So that’s where they would be from now on.

**“and situation—eh, we thought we should expand our reach a little. made sense to start with the place where our wizard-diplomat lives. oh, right, i was supposed to tell you that two monster families volunteered to move here as well, experimentally. with your permission. they’re all pretty proficient with the Vedevs, so blending in isn’t an issue.”**

By Vedevs, he was probably referring to the veiling devices. Short cuts even when talking. The guy hadn’t changed.

Well, it _had_ only been three months.

I leant forward. “How many Monsters are we talking?”

**“well, there’s paps and me. then there’s the two families, six people in total. also, undyne.”**

_Undyne_. I recalled the fish-warrior-Monster vividly. She was… easily excited, to be put mildly. I wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea to put her into a human city and expect her to behave inconspicuously. But the other Monsters probably counted on her as a safety measure. If I allowed the two families in, then Undyne would come with them, whether I wanted her to or not.

**“she’s already here, by the way,”** Sans added, as an afterthought. **“found herself a small flat somewhere else.”**

I took a deep breath, gritting my teeth. “And you thought none of this was, I don’t know, somehow relevant? Hell’s bells, Sans, I know that some of the students from three months ago lent out their freaking _gaming console_ to Frisk once you had somehow established some sort of working electricity net out there. Toriel even told me _specifically_ what games they got, but didn’t think to tell me that you would _move_?”

Sans shrugged. **“must’ve forgotten.”**

I raised one eyebrow.

“Or she expected _you_ to tell me, and you were too lazy to call.”

**“also possible.”**

I groaned in exasperation.

“Never mind that now,” I muttered. “Sure, if you think that the Monster families will be able to blend in and gather some info on the life in a bigger city in contrast to life out in the wild, go for it. I’m not a fan of the risk, but eventually, you’ll have to come down from there, I’m guessing.”

Sans nodded, eyes open again.

**“bro, why don’t you go and show molly _our_ flat?” **He asked. I stared at him quizzically. Not a very subtle way to get his brother out of hearing range.

Subtle enough for Papyrus though, it seemed. Carefully, he put down the cutting knife and beamed at Molly, who had picked up on Sans’ suspicious behavior just like I had, going by her look.

“OH YES! I HAVE TO SHOW YOU! IT IS WONDERFUL TO HAVE A FRIEND OVER AT YOUR NEW HOME!”

Molly shared a short glance with me that said ‘you better let me in on this later’ and nodded with a smile that bordered on pitiful.

“Sure, let’s go, the stove’s not been heated up yet, after all.”

Overjoyed, Papyrus pranced towards the door and held it open for my student, closing it after himself.

“Still treating him like a kid, I see,” I said critically. “That won’t work forever, you know. Pampering him will only have him fall flat on that false face of his. Plus, he may be naïve, but not stupid. He’ll find out some time, anyway. We both know that.”

**“i know he’s not stupid.”**

Sans actually _avoided_ me, his pupils shifting to the side. Old habits die hard, I guess. I sighed and decided to let it go for now.

“So, what didn’t you want him to hear?” 

**“people are getting antsy,”** Sans said sternly. **“tori wants to show them that we’re workin’ on a solution.”**

My eyes narrowed.

“Antsy _how_?” There had to be more behind that than impatient would-be globe trotters.

Sans’ eye-lights trailed back down to Mister.

**“there are rumors about asgore. people tend to notice when their king isn’t there. some stories are a bit too close to reality for my liking. doesn’t help that some faerie are sneaking around the area.”**

My eyes felt like they could pop out of their sockets.

“Faeries?! Sans, what the hell?”

**“oh, yeah. that. we’ve been approached by all sorts of weird folk by now,”** Sans said. **“tori forbade everyone, safe for two exceptions aside from her, to talk with them. but the people don’t listen to her as much as they did to asgore. comes with her havin’ been missing for most of two centuries.”**

“Why did Toriel never tell me about this?” I blurted out, annoyed by now. How was I supposed to do my work if they didn’t talk to me about the things that were actually important?

**“she didn’t want to worry you,”** the skeleton defended his queen laxly, sounding like he didn’t really share that opinion with her. **“you should hear her talkin’ about you sometimes—like you’re some sort of martyr.”**

Next time she called, I would have to tell her that worrying about them was part of my job description.

Thankfully, Sans didn’t drop any more info-bombs after that, so we were mostly done when Molly deactivated the wards for her and Papyrus’ re-entrance. The faeries Sans had mentioned were keeping their distance for now—according to him, at least—only showing some mild interest in the Monsters’ food, nothing else.

Papyrus and Molly managed to cook up something unspeakable, barely resembling a vegetable dish, and we were all glad to dig into the apple pie later. When the skeleton brothers left, Molly and I went on to do her daily exercises, until sometime in the evening, Molly also took off, and I got ready for one last meeting today.

At least this one was somewhat planned.

* * *

### Old Friends… or Something

I grabbed my duster, and a few minutes later I was out on the road in my trusty Blue Beetle.

The car had been almost through as much physical damage as I had, and it showed. The engine gave off sounds like a decade-old tractor, parts of the body had been exchanged—some multiple times—and the seat covers hadn’t always been a cheap camp-ware duct tape combination either. But still, it kept on driving, stubbornly, way past the point thought possible. In other words, car and driver were a perfect fit for each other.

I covered the distance to MacAnally’s, the Accorded Neutral Ground for anything magical, pretty quickly. The evening rush hour of home returning workers had been about an hour ago, and, compared to Chicago’s normal traffic, it was nothing. Having arrived a bit early, I parked the car somewhere close to my destination and stayed inside for a minute, pondering about the developments with the Monsters.

I ended up so deep in thought that I couldn’t help but jump when someone tapped against the front window.

Looking up, I recognized the cause of the disruption and hurried to get out of the Beetle.

Elaine Mallory always knew how to throw me off balance. I suppose that’s normal when you share a past with someone like the one we did—still, when the relationship has been more or less ended over a decade ago, especially with what I had or didn’t have with Susan—maybe I shouldn’t still feel so drawn to her. Nevertheless, I did. And I had a strong feeling that she was in a similar situation, where I was concerned. Even if she didn’t show it as obviously as I probably did.

She brushed a loose golden-brown lock behind her ear, twisting it into the slack bun the rest of her wavy hair was bound into. Her slim figure was draped into a dark, blue-ish blouse which was matching the colors of her jeans. She readjusted her grip around the handle of a small black handbag.

I’ll never quite get in which universe these kinds of accessories could ever be considered useful, but I’ve also had enough experience with women to be smart about it and not comment on that thought. 

“One of these days you’re going to stand up a date because this pile of rust broke down in the middle of the street,” she greeted me, a familiar glint in her intelligent eyes.

“If so, then the Beetle takes precedence, and I’ll push it all the way to my mechanic,” I retorted easily. “I have yet to meet a woman that was willing to carry me to all the places I need to be during a case and then wait for me and take me back, no matter what kind of slimy, stinky, supernatural goo I got on me in the process.”

Elaine rolled her eyes and strode in front of me, aiming at a seemingly ordinary building. And it probably was—safe for the basement, where MacAnally’s was located. “With that kind of attitude, at least you won’t have to worry about any dates for a while.”

I took the snide remark without retaliating and, once inside the building and walking down the stairs, I passed Elaine to open the door of the pub for her, before following her inside. The rules of chivalry always apply, even for ex-lover-turned-enemy-turned-ally-again.

_Especially_ for those.

Mac, the pub’s manager, cook and beer brewer one-man-army was standing behind the bar, giving us a short nod as a greeting, before returning to his much more important activity of cleaning out a handful of glasses. The pub itself wasn’t busier than usual, just full enough to have a comfortable atmosphere to it. The scent of Mac’s cooking found its way into my respiratory system and reminded me that I hadn’t had a proper meal for hours—Papyrus’ and Molly’s veggie-kitchen-accident didn’t count.

My female company chose a table more to the side, giving her a free view of the establishment’s inside. Some might call her paranoid for stuff like that, what with MacAnally’s being Accorded Neutral Ground, forbidding any sort of bigger conflict inside, but there’s a reason why Elaine’s still alive. Besides, lack of attacks doesn’t equal lack of close-by enemies or spies of whichever fraction, not by a long shot.

I ordered a steak sandwich—fries for the lady—and two pints of ale, then relaxed in my seat and looked at her expectantly.

“I think I had a bit of a run-in with an ex-Netter today,” I muttered, when she didn’t seem to want to start. “Young practitioner, not used to his powers. I’m low-key guessing him being able to tap into his magic at all was due to the thing he was supposed to be guarding for Marcone in the first place.”

Elaine cursed silently, mouth movements only.

“One lost, one gained,” she said eventually. I raised an eyebrow to encourage her to keep on talking.

“There’s a newcomer that has me worried,” she elaborated. “Pretty young. _Really_ young, twelve years at the most. And probably a bit stronger than the usual suspects you collect from the streets.” She rubbed her eyes, looking exhausted for a split-second. “Not speaking about anything personal, no background, no guardians, nothing. Didn’t come off to me as an orphan, though,” she added solemnly.

She would know. Both she and I had ample personal experience in the field.

“I meant to tell you beforehand, in case she ends up needing more guidance. You’d be able to introduce her to the Council, what with your Warden standing now.” She gave a vague gesture. “Mind you, I don’t have anything concrete for now. I’ll contact you once I’m sure.”

No physical description other than the person’s age and gender. Not even a name. And, knowing Elaine, she wouldn’t tell me more than that. She was as economical with information as ever – like I said, there’s a reason why Elaine—the woman who managed to break out of the enthrallment spell of Justin DuMorne just in time to flee from a burning house, who lived alongside the faerie of the Summer Court for years on end, and, just last year, almost killed the heir to one of the Houses of the White Court vampires—is still alive.

I decided to turn my full attention to the food in front of me instead. There are some people you don’t want to offend in life, and Mac makes it into the top five of that list for me.

You just don’t disrespect people who can make steak sandwiches like the ones he made.

Elaine nibbled at her fries, sending a searching gaze through the room every other minute.

“How are the Monsters doing, by the way?” She finally asked. She didn’t put much effort into masking her interest.

“Well...” I started, pondering how much I should tell her. “They’ve certainly become more active the last few days. There’s been some… developments,” I summarized vaguely. She nodded, giving me a little smirk.

“I suppose that it’s no coincidence that someone from the Paranet has seen some strange red-headed woman with pointed teeth this morning?”

I’d been had.

Elaine’s smile grew unbelievably smug. “Thought it might have been some badly disguised ghoul or one of the Reds, but I doubt they’d be as obvious as her. I’ve yet to hear about one of them carrying everything they have up a five-story building in one go. It was kind of impressive—she took every flight of stairs in one jump. And I’m pretty sure I saw some scales on her arms when I went by.” She chuckled quietly. “Resembled a blue-skinned human-pirate-fish-mix when I took a closer _Look_.”

I grimaced. “Subtlety was never her strong point.”

Elaine’s full lips quirked up at the corners, underlining the inquisitive look on her face.

“So. Who is she?”

I sighed, defeated. “Undyne. As far as I understand, she’s more or less the ultimate hero-figure in their community. Stubborn as hell, pretty strong and quick on her feet. Not the most strategic of minds, though.”

“You, but as a fish-samurai-pirate,” Elaine nodded. “Got it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Hey! I can be very strategic.”

She allowed herself a small laugh. “Oh sure, Mr. ‘I’ll be riding a dinosaur to town in a zombie apocalypse’.”

My jaw hardened in defiance. “I’ll have you know that Sue played a key-role in our victory.”

All I got in response was another short giggle. Then: “Maybe you should pay her a visit, Harry. As soon as possible.”

“You mean, before she can muck something up?”

“She _is_ you in fish-samurai-pirate form, after all.” Elaine sighed melodramatically. “Trouble is sure to follow.” She reached into her bag and rummaged around for a bit, before pulling out a pen and a piece of paper.

“I’ll give you her address. You should go right after you’ve finished your dinner.”

That was a send-off, if I’ve ever heard one. But true, we were finished exchanging info, I was almost done with my sandwich, and Undyne really _did_ need someone to reign her in a bit.

So I just snorted. “Yes, Ma’am.”

Elaine folded up the paper, tossed it over to me and got up, paying for her meal. I’d have done it for her, but I knew she wouldn’t have let me anyway.


	3. A KNIGHT OF THE NIGHT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry it took so long to update. Reason lies mostly in Chapter 5 and 6, both of which are very exposition-heavy; I'm not really satisfied with it, but I just can't find a way around it, as unfitting it may be for the typical Dresden-verse structure. So, sorry about that. And the late post. I promise It'll pick up soon, though!

## PAPYRUS

### A KNIGHT OF THE NIGHT! 

_“… leaves a family of five with their home burned to the ground. The police suspects a case of arson…”_

Switch.

_“… terror cell stopped in their tracks. But many members are thought to still be on the run…”_

Switch.

_“… Mr. Fergusson, the cashier, was shot by the burglars after…”_

Switch.

_“… armed and dangerous…”_

Switch.

_“… killer has claimed another victim. The police investigation so far has been without success…”_

Papyrus turned off the TV, his human mask scrunched up into a contemplative expression.

“HUMAN TELEVISION IS VERY BLEAK,” he commented after a while, his gaze searching for his brother. Sans was lying in his hammock and didn’t react. Papyrus felt himself twitching in annoyance once again.

The “hammock” was actually part of the other skeleton’s bedsheets—only that he had been too lazy to make his bed and had nailed the ends of the sheet to the wall instead. An action that arguably took more effort than making the bed in the first place, as far as Papyrus was concerned.

Aside from that—and aside from being most _not_ aesthetic-looking—it was a safety hazard waiting to happen. Sans had promised to move the sheet to the bed once he would crash to the ground along with it. Papyrus could simply not grasp why his brother needed to take the risk of being hurt in order to do the most effortless of tasks. Part of him suspected Sans just liked Papyrus worrying over him.

**“suits them, kinda,”** Sans suddenly drawled.

Ah. So he _had_ listened.

“I WONDER IF THEY HAVE ANYTHING JOYFUL TO REPORT! IT CERTAINLY DOES NOT SEEM MUCH LIKE IT!”

Further wrapped in gray sheets, the bunched up ball shrugged. **“maybe so.”**

“VERY CURIOUS, INDEED!” Papyrus continued. “I DO HAVE TO WONDER WHERE ALL THEIR SUPERHEROES ARE! THEY CANNOT ALL BE ON VACATION AT THE SAME TIME, CAN THEY? THAT WOULD BE A LOGISTICAL DISASTER!”

The wall-ball grew still, until Sans’s skeletal head appeared, his eye-sockets peeking out just over the rim of the sheets.

**“bro, uh… they don’t _actually_ have those.”**

The words hit Papyrus like a punch to the non-existent stomach. Utterly shocked, he jumped up from the couch and marched up to the wall-ball.

“WHAT?! THAT CANNOT BE! THEY HAVE DOCUMENTARIES! THEY LOOK SO REAL!”

Sans blinked sheepishly. **“movies, pap. fiction.”**

Papyrus felt the world shatter around him. It _did_ explain why he had never seen or heard of a real-life superhero, now that he thought about it.

**“the closest thing to a superhero they have is probably our magi- _pal_ ”**, Sans added as an afterthought. The cringe his brother’s pun-name for their friend caused in Papyrus quickly disposed of the tragic shock of the prior revelation, and he groaned loudly.

“UGH! SANS! THAT IS THE WORST!”

His brother grinned cheekily, not showing any regret in the slightest. The nerve!

Papyrus’ thoughts meandered back to the TV reports, and he felt his bones rattle in worry.

“BUT… THAT MEANS… THAT MEANS THAT THE PEOPLE ARE COMPLETELY ALONE AGAINST SO MUCH BLEAKNESS!” His eyes grew larger—he could sense it on his meticulously crafted mask—as he pondered about the horrible possibilities. “OUR WIZARD FRIEND IS VERY BUSY, AND WITH NO SUPERHERO, WHO WILL DEFEND THEM?!”

Sans’ sockets narrowed. **“they have police for that.”**

“BUT IN THE NEWS, THE POLICE CANNOT DO ANYTHING!”

**“probably sensationalism on the media’s part. neglect to mention the positive stuff.”**

Papyrus’ face had grown into a huge anticipatory grin.

“SANS! I KNOW WHAT WE ARE GOING TO DO, STARTING TODAY! … OR, TONIGHT, RATHER.”

**“no.”**

Papyrus faltered in the middle of his already half-struck heroic pose. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘NO’?”

The wall-ball shrank into the flat sheet it was, and Sans appeared next to him, staring up intensely.

**“no playing superhero, pap. we don’t know the area. we don’t know the people. it’s too dangerous.”** His uncharacteristic sternness disappeared, he sunk back into his typical slouching form, completed by a stretched-out yawn. **“plus, it’s too much work.”**

Of course he would add that, though Papyrus knew that it wasn’t really a big part of Sans’ reasoning. But no matter his brother’s opinion, now that Papyrus had come up with the idea he knew he had to fulfill it. It wasn’t a question of what he wanted to do—he _could_ help, thus he had the moral obligation to.

However, as much as Papyrus disliked admitting it to himself, Sans was not one to be swayed by arguments of morality. He _did_ consider them, but ultimately, his brother made decisions based on arguments of logic and personal positive payoff.

So all he had to do was list a few of those.

“THE HUMANS WOULD BE VERY GRATEFUL!”

Sans frowned. **“so?”**

“SO, IT WOULD GRANT US A STRATEGIC ADVANTAGE!”

The way the smaller skeleton started rocking on his feet made it clear to Papyrus that he had him intrigued. Sensing the victory in his grasp, he continued enthusiastically.

“IF I MAKE ALL THE HUMANS LOVE ME, THEY WOULD WELCOME ALL MONSTERS WITH OPEN ARMS ONCE I REVEAL MY TRUE IDENTITY!” He exclaimed, proudly. “OR… THEY WOULD AT LEAST WELCOME _ME_. AND THEN I WOULD CONVINCE THEM ABOUT THE OTHERS!”

Sans’ eye-sockets shrank a little, showing worry.

**“you really want to do this, huh?”** His expression conveyed more of an “i can’t really stop you, can i?” message. Papyrus decided to reply to both the open and the hidden question.

“OF COURSE! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! THAT IS ALREADY KIND OF A SUPERHERO NAME!” Finally, Papyrus got to strike his heroic pose. “I WAS _BORN_ FOR THIS!”

Sans sighed, his shoulders slumping forward. Papyrus was almost ready to apologize for upsetting him, but then his brother glanced up again, the look of concern wiped away by a lazy smile.

**“fine. not tonight though. a real superhero needs a costume, right? need to make one first.”**

Papyrus cheered in delight, excitedly hopping up and down on the spot. No matter how unreliable he seemed, Sans _always_ came around in the end to help him. Being the humans’ superhero wouldn’t have felt right without his brother’s support.

**“you’ll also need a sidekick,”** Sans continued, making his way up to their own little alcove kitchen, grabbing the phone he had left lying around on the counter. **“every real superhero has one of those.”**

Papyrus almost shrieked in giddy disbelief. “YOU ARE COMING, TOO?! BROTHER, I AM-”

**“nah, i’m callin’ undyne. she’ll do a much better job,”** Sans said with a wide grin, dialing the Royal Guard’s Captain’s number, before lifting the phone to the side of his head and turning around to face the kitchen’s wall.

The taller skeleton’s shoulders slumped a little. Not because of the prospect of being a superhero with Undyne. It was…

The phone crackled, and Undyne’s voice hissed out of the receiver.

“What do _you_ want, asshat?”

That. It was that. 


	4. Enthusiastic Cooking

## Dresden

### Enthusiastic Cooking

_Hopefully Elaine gave me the address to the wrong building—because_ this one’s _**on fire**._

At least one of the apartments on the upper end was. Though the firefighters had it under control by now, so it was no surprise to see that the building’s residents didn’t look all that troubled. They were standing outside on the street, between the apartment complex and Wicker Park, huddled together in clusters beneath the street lights; no doubt discussing the possible causes for the fire outbreak.

The relatively strong police presence was a bit more surprising on that end. Sure, one or two officers wouldn’t have been too strange, to rule out or search for evidence of arson. But six people, for what maybe amounted to a sooty wall and some charred furniture? To my knowledge, Chicago’s law enforcement was too busy to send so many for such a minor case.

“Damnit, piss off, doctor guy! I’m fine, there’s NO shock, get it?! DO YOU GET IT?!”

I groaned. Elaine _had_ given me the correct address. Scanning the groups, I detected an ambulance and saw a tall athletic red-haired human-looking woman, dressed in ripped dark-grey jeans, white top and dark leather jacket, sitting at the end of the vehicle, shoving off an increasingly impatient paramedic.

“This isn’t my first time my kitchen burned down, and now keep this stupid light out of my FACE!”

“Undyne!” I called, making my way through two groups of residents that weren’t trying too hard to hide their curiosity. The disguised fish warrior started in surprise and greeted me with a wide grin, pushing herself off the ambulance car, knocking down the paramedic with her elbow while running towards me. I cringed as the unfortunate guy landed on his ass and sat there for a second, before shaking his head and calling it quits on the uncooperative patient.

“DUDE! Nice to see you here!” She punched my shoulder, then went on to scratch her head bashfully. “Ya see, I need to crash at somebody’s, my flat’s kinda… in need of renovations.”

“I can see that.”

“Yeah, well, your puny human ovens can’t take anything,” she tried to defend herself. “’Sides, I think I need you to cover for me.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, still loud enough for me to understand her without having to concentrate. “If the other humans question me, they could notice something with my human getup. I’m not the best with this stuff.”

“I can also see _that_.” I started massaging my nosebridge. “Well, Papyrus and Sans just moved into the apartment building I live in, so-”

“No thanks,” she spat, her tone positively hostile, blaring her pointed teeth. “Just had a call with them before my kitchen blew up. Don’t want to spend time near _that guy_ if I can avoid it.”

I frowned. Who was she talking about? As far as I could remember, she was always fond and partly protective of Papyrus. That left only Sans as focus of her hostility.

What the hell? When had _that_ happened?

Seriously, I needed these people to tell me more about what was happening.

“ _Dresden_.”

Hearing the authoritative and somewhat irritated intonation of my name, I didn’t even need to turn around to see who had joined us.

“Murphy,” I responded, as the woman stepped around me, confronting both Undyne and me, hands on her hips, disapproving glare on point as always.

Murphy looks a bit like your stereotypically cute kindergarten teacher—measuring up only to 5.0, small nose and clear blue eyes, knowing how to deal with kids and being a great well of patience and understanding.

Well, there’s a reason why you shouldn’t ever judge a book by its cover. Sergeant Murphy might _appear_ harmless, but inside that short stature, there’s a ferocious tiger mom, protecting the city like it was her cub. That woman, with no magical prowess at all, had followed me into more than one battle against the supernatural, and had not only survived but had also saved my life along the way. She’s brave, strong, incredibly loyal and a good shot.

She, however, also doesn’t like it very much when I withhold information from her. And apparently, Monsters moving into ‘her’ city was information she expected me to share with her.

I raised my hands as a sign of placation.

“In my defense, I also found out just today.”

Murphy drew her eyebrows together incredulously, but let it drop. With a nod I signaled the women to leave the scene before some too-curious neighbors started to get suspicious of our conversation. Walking off into Wicker Park, leaving behind the sparsely lit streets and swapping them for a canopy of leaves, Murphy glanced at Undyne with a scrutinizing eye and smirked.

“The face isn’t too shabby. Little uncanny still, though.”

Undyne beamed at her. “THANKS! Tried to model it after that badass Croft-woman in the nerd’s new game, but changing hair color was too much of a hassle.”

Changing teeth form as well, apparently.

“Say, Murphy—how come you’re here? That’s not really your area, is it?” I tried to change the topic from Undyne’s fashion choices.

“Not that it’s your business,” Murphy started, “but I got a call at home. That convinced me to come here—turned out to be a ruse, though.”

“So I’m guessing you’re the reason for that blue force party back there?” I inquired further.

“Careful, Dresden. Those are my colleagues.”

I smirked and dismissed her comment. “Who has to call, for Karrin Murphy to drop everything and hurry to get to him?”

“People like Vlad Grigorovich,” she replied evenly.

One of Marcone’s men. Interesting.

My jaw hardened into a stiff grin. “You won’t believe it, but I was running from that guy just earlier today.”

“Oh, I believe it.”

A eardrum-rapturing cranking noise whipped our attention to the side of the park way—only to see Undyne, who had ripped a bench, previously screwed to the ground, from its holders. She stared at it, blinking.

“Whoops. Guess this one’s not up for bench-pressing.”

“No matter how bored you are, Undyne, it’s not the brightest idea to commit vandalism right next to a police sergeant,” Murphy drawled. The disguised fish Monster grinned bashfully, and slowly put the bench back down.

“What did one of Marcone’s henchmen want from you?” I went back to asking. Murphy shrugged.

“He sounded off, actually. Like in a trance, or something. Not quite there.”

“Maybe he was confused,” I said, “I _did_ hit him with a door this morning.”

“Of course you did.” She crossed her arms. “My guess is more on drugs, though.”

I shook my head, observing Undyne out of the corner of my eye to prevent further destruction of city property. She seemed to have learned from the bench incident though, and had gone on to flipping into a handstand and doing pushups instead. No objects in danger.

“I’ll take her in,” Murphy said suddenly. Upon hearing that, Undyne flipped back onto her feet and stared at her with wide eyes.

“Wait, FOR REAL?” Her razor-sharp teeth flashed, and she stepped up, gripping Murphy by her shoulder, who took the sudden approach without as much as a flinch. “Thanks!”

My brow furrowed in confusion. “Hold on, before you start your sleepover pajama party, I-”

“I’m not a high school girl, Dresden. No pajamas,” Murphy interjected, smirking devilishly at me. “I’m doing you a favor here, really. Think about it—she blew up her flat with all the explosive potential of a normal human apartment. Do you really _want_ her near your magical toys?”

“Hey,” Undyne whined.

“They’re not toys,” I muttered.

Murphy brushed us both off.

“Also, I’ve had it with you neglecting to tell me when something happens. I’ll take her as my own informant, in case more Monsters decide to show up in my town,” she added, in a voice that didn’t allow any objections.

So, naturally, I objected.

“Murph, they’re my responsibility-”

“And you’re _mine_ , Dresden. I’m taking her in, end of discussion.” She raised an eyebrow. “If at my house or into custody, that’s up to you.”

“ _Custody?!_ ” Undyne protested. “But I haven’t done anything!”

Murphy scrutinized her; the look of a disapproving mother at her misbehaving child.

“You _blew up_ part of a building. There are people paranoid enough to suspect an act of terrorism in these kinds of cases.”

Undyne started to voice another complaint but smartly shut it with another good look at Murphy’s no-nonsense stare. Her shoulders sagged, and I wouldn’t have believed it, hadn’t I heard the small “sorry” there and then. Murphy nodded in gracious acceptance. “Go and fetch your stuff. Everything that’s still in one piece, anyway,” she added, sending Undyne off, before moving her attention back to me.

“Anything else you might want to tell me _now_?”

I rubbed my eyes, suddenly feeling very tired.

“Sans and Papyrus moved into a flat close to mine. And tomorrow there’ll be two families, six people in total,” I repeated the info I had gotten today. “They’ll be testing out the devices and city life after I’ve had a look at them and authorized it.”

“Great. I’ll be a part of that, then,” Murphy decided. “Make it so they come in either before or after my shift.” She met my exasperation with a confident look.

“I’m not saying this to annoy you. As competent as you are, they’ll need every help they can get. And you won’t always be available, not with your track record. Just wait until they have to call the police about something. It’ll be a huge weight off of your shoulders if they already have connections.”

I grit my teeth. “That weight will be added to _your_ workload then?”

She grunted. “They’ll be citizens of Chicago, Dresden. It’s my _job_ to look after them.”


	5. New Citizens

## Dresden

### New Citizens

The next day, Murphy showed up right on time, pulling up her car at the apartment building at 10am. I let her in and handed her a cup of coffee as we sat down – she on the couch, I on my armchair, between us a coffee table I had borrowed from the landlady for today.

“So, how exactly is this going to go down?” She asked in-between sips. “I’ve got two hours, Dresden. They better not be stuck in traffic.”

“I doubt it,” I said cryptically, but gave in when she cocked an impatient eyebrow at me. Not without drawing out the suspense a little, of course. “They’re still in Colorado. Sans left about fifteen minutes ago to port them here.”

Slowly, Murphy placed her cup on the table, examining me as if she expected something like ‘sike, they’re in my bathroom’.

“Impressive,” she muttered, finally. “From here to that mountain—it has to be almost a thousand miles. He can really cover that distance in such a short amount of time?”

I set down my coffee mug and put the tips of my fingers together, leaning back, recalling the conversation I’d had with the skeleton just before he left.

“That’s what I asked him, too,” I admitted. “The guy just laughed and asked me what the point of teleportation would be if the distance mattered. Couldn’t really come up with a good counter in time—blink and he’s gone, two states away.”

“Impressive,” Murphy repeated.

“At least he has to have been somewhere before he can port there. Otherwise that ability would be way too broken,” I grumbled—not mentioning the possible scenarios that opened up for anyone that could get a grip on Sans, be it enemy or ally. It was an ability just waiting to be abused, and all it really took was getting control over Papyrus’ safety. Only now I truly understood how lucky we had gotten when Chara had temporarily taken over Sans’ body.

“Impressive,” Murphy said blankly, for the third time. I sent her a look.

“Not really articulate today, are we?”

She grimaced, leaned forward and gave me a friendly punch against the shoulder.

“Shut up, Dresden, I haven’t had my complete coffee fill yet. Besides, I don’t want to call it outright horrifying; because that’s what it is, really.” She frowned. “Imagine how useless prisons would become if he decided to go rogue.” Her brows drew together. “Let me guess, wards or thresholds don’t work either.”

Now it was my turn to pull a face. “Haven’t tried it out yet, but he doesn’t really _cross_ them, so… I’ll go with ‘no’.”

“And he can take whoever he wants with him,” she groaned, shutting her eyes in exasperation. “Fantastic. He’s every criminal’s wet dream.”

“ _Ugh_. I _really_ didn’t need that.”

“You’re welcome.”

I was about to hold up my part of the bantering, when someone knocked at the door. I got up, moved through the room in a few long strides and deactivated the wards, knowing whom to expect. When I opened up, Sans stood before me in his brown-hair-mat-human get-up, complete with his usual blue hoodie and black shorts, grinning up at me as if he had heard every last word.

He probably _had_.

Just a few steps behind Sans, there were the six announced Monsters, all for now still in a human-ish disguise—a mother and her son, and a family of four. Papyrus came in last, waving at me joyfully. His mask had improved considerably since yesterday—perhaps Sans had finally gotten him to sleep a little.

I stepped aside and let the eight Monsters in, putting the wards back up. In the back, I heard Murphy rise from the couch and greet the newcomers.

“Hello and welcome in Chicago. In case you didn’t see me three months ago or don’t remember, I am Sergeant Karrin Murphy, from the Chicago police department.” I turned around just in time to see one of her genuinely nicer smiles flash over her face, as she tried to bridge the typically awkward first-time-meeting-talk. “Before we delve into anything, I’d like you to know that Dresden isn’t the only one you can contact if you’re in a difficult situation. If there’s anything I can do to help you settle in, consider it done.”

The Monster single mum beamed at her gratefully. “That’s really nice of you, Sergeant Murphy.”

She and her kid had pressed themselves into the armchair I had sat in before, as the family of four occupied the couch. Sans had made himself comfortable on the ground, leaning against Mouse’s massive form, Papyrus was fiddling in the alcove kitchen, happily humming, clanking kitchenware together.

Guess I’d have to do the next part standing.

When I approached, I got a better look at the new Monsters and was in for a pleasant surprise. They actually pulled off some convincingly human disguises—though most of them, the adults in particular, had taken Sans’ route and copied other humans’ likeness. It would explain why I had, among others, a long-haired man resembling Matt Damon sitting on my couch. I don’t usually remember actor’s names, but the Bourne Ultimatum posters had been all but inescapable last month. Going by the appearances of the women, they as well had chosen actresses—it just wasn’t the look of the regular woman around town.

It made sense, in a way—they had to have something to stare at and copy in the first place, so movie posters were an easy option. At least they tried to change it up a little. And, although it was definitely too attention-grabbing to make for good camouflage, at least it made for some eye-candy.

Fortunately, the kids had gone with less eye-catching personae—though I ascribed that to the fact that child actors weren’t as common as their adult counterparts. The two siblings, sister and brother, vaguely resembled two of the lost students in May, while the image the single mom’s boy had chosen didn’t strike any recognition in me. He seemed to be especially skilled. If I hadn’t known better I would have thought they had adopted another human kid alongside Frisk. 

“It’s commendable that you keep up the appearance,” I started, getting right to the point, “but I’d like to get a look at your real faces.”

The family of four gladly obliged, revealing a… flock? of ice bird Monsters. It was a weird change; contrary to Sans and Papyrus, the skin and hair didn’t just disappear, but so did the clothing. Then again, they _would_ have to create that alongside the rest of their disguise. They—especially the parents—also shrank down considerably. So height was somewhat changeable too. Wasn’t _that_ interesting.

Before the single Mom’s boy could drop the guise as well, his mother piped up with a proudly puffed chest. She was the extroverted type. It definitely explained the—pardon the word choice— _monstrous_ rack she had applied to her version of a Bond-girl.

“Before we do that, could we show you something, Master Wizard?” She put her hands on her son’s shoulders and pushed him up from the armchair, nudging him in my direction. The poor kid—going by the face of his disguise, he couldn’t be much older than eight, though I didn’t know how representative that was—didn’t enjoy the attention at all. Shyly, he gave me one short glance, before deciding that the floorboards were much more interesting.

I hadn’t realized that there were still Monsters this nervous when talking to me. Then again, he was a child. Maybe it wasn’t just me personally.

“Go on, Peanut, tell us what you can do,” his mother urged him, having turned into a human-sized bunny-Monster. She nudged between his shoulder blades again, pushing him in my direction. It earned her a disapproving look from both me and Murphy.

An overly ambitious parent. Lovely.

“He’s a _prodigy_ ,” one of the other kids commented mockingly. “Let’s all bow down to his greatness, why don’t we?”

Peanut—a nickname, hopefully—curled his body in and had his eyes flicker up to meet mine only for a split second.

“I… I can use the v-vedev on other people, t-too,” he mumbled, his voice trembling. I finally realized that I was towering over him in almost double his height—he only mounted up to around the stature of an average six-year-old—so I crouched down, trying my best to mitigate his anxiety.

Encouraged, Peanut proceeded to reach towards me, his hand hesitating a good few inches away from my shoulder. His gaze grew increasingly insecure and his arm wavered, before he managed to glance at me a third time. His eyes were screaming with anxiety; maybe it was for the prospect of using his magic on a wizard. That thought was a little less depressing, so I went with it.

I sighed internally and patted his head, glad that he didn’t cringe away.

“If you changed _my_ appearance, I wouldn’t see the effect. Why don’t you show me on Sans? He’s never in a proper disguise anyway.”

Sans, who had fallen asleep in the meantime, snored encouragingly before sinking deeper into Mouse’s fur. My wooly mammoth-dog huffed in tolerating annoyance.

The boy’s all-too-human face lit up in relief and he quickly scrambled over to the short skeleton, placing his hand on the bone connecting the elbow with the thumb side of the wrist. He inhaled sharply, and a wavering optic ripple washed over Sans’ appearance—a second later, it was Frisk using my dog as a cushion.

Peanut turned his head to his mother, searching for her approval.

Imagine the confusion when he was instead met with a mix between pity and sadness—and a wave of apprehension from the other two adults. It only took a second until I understood.

Ah. Frisk had kept their promise to Papyrus. Admirable, though I wished they would have waited a little longer. Did every Monster know by now? Not the kids, probably, but the adults?

Did _Undyne_ know?

Or Toriel? She was the Queen. She _had_ to know.

_Mommy, I’ve killed you before._ Ouch.

“Of all the humans you could have chosen,” the male ice-bird snarled. His wife shook her head, turning away.

Murphy hissed quietly when she came to the same conclusion as I had. Just like I had promised back then, I had told her everything I had found out on Mt. Elbert, and this part was something she never quite got around.

Sans-Frisk opened one eye, pulled out a small mirror from the pockets of his hoodie and inspected Peanut’s work. Wordlessly, he stuck the mirror back and patted the boy’s knee.

“Freakin’ idiot,” the ice-bird boy blurted out laughing. Peanut dropped his hand and Sans’ disguise disappeared. The boy himself gave up his human look as well, leaving a disheartened bunny-boy with beige fur and drooping ears in its stead.

My flat was steadily turning into a zoo-drama. Just peachy.

“But… but why?” His voice broke. The furry nose twitched sadly. “They’re my friend, why…”

“Don’t you get it?” The bird-girl piped up. “Adults hate them now! So they must’ve done something _reeaal_ bad.”

Peanut looked ready to burst into tears right there and then.

“WHO WANTS SOME TEA?”

Thank the gods for Papyrus.

The lanky skeleton whirled around, a set of teacups, filled to the rim, delicately placed atop a white serving platter I was sure I didn’t possess. The focus of the attention successfully pulled away from the boy and the topic of Frisk altogether, Papyrus strutted towards us, balancing the teacups like a seasoned waiter.

“AND WHILE THE ADULTS REFRESH THEMSELVES, I PROPOSE TAKING THE KIDS OUT FOR A STROLL IN THE CITY!” He exclaimed, putting the platter on the coffee table, not spilling a drop of tea on the way. “I VOLUNTEER TO KEEP WATCH AS YOU DISCUSS ANY ACTIONS THAT NEED TO BE TAKEN!” 

His voice was a couple decibel louder than usual. The distraction had to be intentional.

Either that or he really had just finished making tea and now wanted to continue, impatient as ever. No matter what it was, all three parents seemed to welcome the change of topic as much as I did, and nodded approvingly. Single Mom didn’t appear half as eager to drag the spotlight back on her son now.

**“great idea, bro,”** Sans commented, head further disappearing into the fluff that was my dog’s belly.

“Whaaat?” the older sibling whined. “But we just dropped the vedev, and it’s _hard_ to have it running the whole-”

The boy stilled when Sans threw a look at him.

**“you kids would be bored anyways. there’s nothin’ duller than adult talk.”** His perma-plastered grin widened. **“i say you take that walk, _buddy_.”**

His smile was as lazy as ever, but something in his tone made the defiant Monster boy very obedient. The bird broke into a nervous smile mid-human-transition and gave his sister’s shoulder a small pat.

“Hey, Drifla, didn’t you want to see a human playground?” His sister shook her head at first, but went over into a confused nod when he continued to stare at her determinedly. The boy’s eyes flickered over to Peanut, who had effortlessly changed back into his human form. “Come on, Peanut, let’s all go with Paps. Like, right now.”

Murphy and I simultaneously raised a questioning eyebrow at Sans, who offered us both an unknowing shrug and his typical shit-eating grin.

Papyrus beamed triumphantly. He held the door open for the kids, scurrying them outside while waving us goodbye.

The door closed.

“Fehri listens so well to you, Sans,” Monster boy’s father said appreciatively. “Must be remnant of your babysitter days.”

**“eh, paps did most of the watchin’,”** Sans shrugged the compliment off, **“i just made sure the kid wouldn’t sneak off after curfew.”**

_That_ explained things a little.


	6. Vigilante Permit

## Dresden

### Vigilante Permit

Murphy decided to take the reins. She pulled out a map of Chicago city, and over the next one and half an hour, we discussed the logistics and details of the Monster families’ stay; making clear where they would live, debating the best, least risk-drawing tactics of integration…

To put it bluntly, Sans was proved right. It was one of my dullest experiences I’d ever had, and I was actually glad to have Murphy there—it wasn’t like I had much experience in keeping people safe from _normal_ day-to-day risks.

When Murphy got ready to leave for work, Papyrus and the kids had already returned—and Undyne was about to barge in. It was by sheer luck only that we got to stop her before activating my wards and blowing up a second flat. The fish warrior had been taking a run through the city and found the apartment building thanks to the map Murphy had given to her.

Apparently the sergeant had taken it as her duty to empty the complete map storage of the next tourist information stall. At least that’s what she left behind. Stacks of city maps. Even a compass.

Undyne didn’t waste any time to declare that we’d wasted way too much time on blabbing already, and proposed that she and Papyrus help the Monsters with moving their stuff from the skeleton’s living room to their rented flats. Safe for an annoyed glare, she deliberately left out Sans—which didn’t go by unexpected. Nevertheless, she had a point—it wasn’t like Sans could just teleport the two families anywhere they wanted. We had ruled that one out earlier. Just popping up amidst a couple of unexpecting passersby wasn’t the best tactic, however efficient it may be.

I wasn’t really left a choice at that point. Either risk a group of inexperienced Monsters travel through the nation’s third-largest city under the supervision of two other not very subtle people—or go with them and make sure not everything that could go wrong would go wrong.

Only some things.

Once we arrived at the designated flats, I noticed that they were much nicer than mine—Undyne immediately picked up on that and tried to brag about the Monster gold that was still financing all of their actions. Papyrus brought a stop to the smugness when he mentioned that Undyne herself, by order of the queen, was completely left out of any financial deals. I reciprocated the skeleton’s help with a friendly pat, which he took with beaming pride.

* * *

At the time we returned to my flat the clock had struck 5 pm.

Papyrus and Undyne excused themselves and left once we reached the apartment building. Undyne wanted to take a shower and Papyrus said something about being busy with sewing an outfit… or something of the sort. I didn’t pay it much mind.

Opening the door to my flat, I saw that the dwellers within had only increased in numbers.

Molly had dropped in while we were gone. And Sans seemingly hadn’t left at all, except he _must_ have left at some point. Because I certainly didn’t store a laptop around my living space. Magic and modern technology just don’t go well with each other—it’s why I use candles as a light source instead of your typical lamps.

And yet, there was Sans, sitting on the ground with a portable computer on his lap. A second look revealed a chalk circle drawn neatly around him, cutting off all outside magic. That one had to be Molly’s work.

My apprentice was sprawled on the couch, lying on her stomach, looking over his shoulder, careful not to cross the circle. Whatever Sans was doing, it caused her to giggle once in a while. The keen teaching senses I had developed since taking her on told me that they couldn’t be up to anything good.

But before I would enter _that_ conversation, it was time for the simple pleasures in life.

Namely, fast food and beverages.

I went off to my fridge to pull out one of Mac’s beers—the man must never know that I have the audacity to cool them—and opened the bottle with a practiced flick of my thumb.

“And what exactly are you two up to over there?” I asked.

**“hacking into the databank of the cpd,”** Sans replied easily. Molly giggled.

Oh _sure_. Har har. I dignified that response with a sarcastic grunt, shook my head and took a sip from the bottle, then went on to unwrap the cheeseburger I had gotten on the way back. I had offered the other two moving aides one as well, but they both declined. Apparently, Papyrus and Undyne shared opinions when it came to food.

Sans glanced back over his shoulder and grinned at me. **“by the way, tomorrow i’ll be taking another one here. one of the dogs has gotten into computers and he thinks that the online connection on the mountain is horrible.”** He chuckled. **“he’s not wrong.”**

A dog. Into computers. What…

Who am I kidding, it wasn’t like I was surprised by anything they came up with anymore. Besides, I didn’t doubt for a second that Mouse would be able to use one if he wanted to.

I took another sip.

“He’s not going to need his own flat as well, is he?” _That_ would be one thing to explain to a landlord.

**“nah. toby’s gonna live with paps and me. he’s not gonna cause any trouble.”**

Sans got up, his bones creaking from the lack of use. Still within the confines of the chalk circle around him, he flicked up a USB stick and caught it again.

**“be right back,”** he said, and disappeared, leaving the running laptop behind. I shared a look with Molly, whose expression was nothing short of mischievous. Hell’s bells, this skeleton was dragging her back into her rebellious teen-phase, wasn’t he?

I spent the next five minutes partly denying Molly a beer from the fridge (you’re a long shot from being allowed to touch alcohol, young lady, and I don’t doubt your mother could sniff it out from miles away if you were to take even a whiff of it), and then instead giving up the other burger I had brought with me for later in the evening.

Molly had happily eaten half of it when Sans reappeared, a single sheet of paper in his hand. So much about wards holding him off, then. A second later, Undyne knocked at the front door. Molly opened, and she waltzed in, her red hair bound together into a tight knot, dripping water with every step she took.

The fish Monster grimaced when the skeleton walked the length of the room and handed her the paper. She frowned and threw a short glance at it.

“What the hell is that?”

Sans stuck his hands inside his pockets.

**“a list of all known free criminals and suspects of the city. the guys you and paps should stay clear off.”**

I frowned. “Where’d you get—wait, you seriously hacked into the police databank?!”

He grinned innocently. **“ey, i told you.”**

Molly snorted from the couch, complicit in the criminal activity.

Murphy was going to _kill_ me. Luckily for Sans, his expression sobered quickly, otherwise I would’ve given him something akin to an earful.

**“this is somethin’ i wanted to talk to you about anyway.”**

I put down Mac’s bottle and crossed my arms with a disapproving stare. “I’m all ears.”

Sans reached behind his skull and scratched it in what I could only describe as a mixture of embarrassment and tension. 

**“paps saw the news. now he wants to play superhero. at nighttime.”**

From the side, Molly let out a short gasp.

Mentally, I ran through Papyrus’ exit and finally put together the pieces. He was sewing a superhero costume. That freakin…

Well. It _was_ Papyrus after all.

Back in the present, I cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at the would-be superhero’s brother.

“And…?”

**“i know him. there’s no stopping him, at least not in a way that wouldn’t make the situation even more risky. the least dangerous option is to go along with it and kinda… maneuver him, so he won’t run into serious trouble.”** His light-pupils focused on me, for once looking about as serious as I had come to know him back in Colorado.

Undyne snorted, drawing my attention over to her. She was shaking with unmistakable rage, clenching and unclenching her fists time and time again.

“ _Wow_. You really _are_ such a sneaky lying little schemer,” she hissed. “Never thought you’d be like that even with Paps.”

Sans didn’t react, other than calmly facing the irate fish. Which obviously made her even more furious.

Okay. That was it. I stepped between the two Monsters and lifted up both hands.

“Okay, time out! I don’t care what happened between you two, but please make up like adults. We don’t have the luxury to have you be hostile against each other, and I won’t be the arbiter here.”

I was supposed to handle interactions between Monsterkind and the Council, maybe help them ease into the human world a little. And I knew what happened to people that viewed each and every issue as a personal problem they had to solve. Precisely because I was one of those people. However, I wasn’t that much of a busybody that I had to sort out every minor squabble around me.

Undyne put her hands on her hips and looked away.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “You’re right.” She glanced at Sans again and nodded stiffly. “I’ll take the list and watch out. For Paps.”

“Now wait a second,” I chimed in again, lowering my arms. “This is a really stupid idea in the first place, and-”

“HA!” Undyne laughed, relaxed visibly and whacked my shoulder in what I guess was supposed to be a friendly slap. “Paps won’t change his mind, Sans is right in that point. I would know, I tried to put him off the royal guard thing for AGES!” She grinned fondly. “It’s why I gave him cooking lessons instead of fighting training.”

“Wouldn’t that make you no different from the ‘sneaky lying schemer’?” Molly quoted surly. She had gotten up from the couch and, as opposed to me, had evidently chosen a side.

Undyne turned an interesting shade of purple. “That… is different!” she blurted out, gesticulating wildly. “I did it to keep him safe!”

Molly cocked an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips, releasing all the irritating smugness that only a teenager can present that way.

“So is Sans.”

My eyes flickered over to the skeleton. He was visibly uncomfortable with how the situation was progressing. Understandable, but really—try to stop two women in their quarrel. You’ll be torn between the fronts without mercy.

Nonetheless, I was not having this right now. I had somewhat of an authority over both women in this case, and I was not above using that station. I put my hand on my forehead and kneaded the skin together.

“Keep it down, alright? This is going nowhere.”

Taking a step back and leaning against the kitchen counter, I faced both Sans and Undyne.

“I still think you’d both do better if you stopped treating the guy like a toddler. He’s a freaking adult and I doubt he’d appreciate this.” I sighed. “That aside… let me guess, you’ll accompany him in this _really dumb_ idea, Undyne?”

Her sly grin was enough of a response.

These Monsters were going to be the death of me. I had half a mind to just stride up to Papyrus’ room and tell him that he wasn’t allowed to go through with his crazy idea, but then again I had neither the time, nor energy, nor means to check whether he complied or not. And you never set a rule in place when you can’t check if it’s followed up on.

Fortunately, Sans had told me about it—now I could make these “superhero” activities nothing more than harmless walks at night.

Huh. Look at me, telling others not to treat Papyrus like a child. Then again, the guy was upstairs, sewing a freaking _superhero costume_ right now, so…

Oh well.

“I think you’ll be fine if you keep to the northern part of the city,” I said, finally. “Everything to the north of Avondale and Lincoln Park should be fair game.” I shot Undyne a stern look. She seemed way too excited about this. “Still, keep out of narrow and dark alleys, _run_ if you hear gunshots—and you have to tell Murphy before you head out.”

She’d notice anyway if Undyne tried to sneak out of her house in the middle of the night. Here was hoping that the no-nonsense sergeant wouldn’t allow those two run around and be vigilantes.

Undyne flashed her piranha-like teeth at me. “Will do!”

She grabbed the paper Sans had given her and stuffed it into her leather jacket, at the same turning back into her human form.

“I’ll be going,” she announced, nodding at me and Molly, who still seemed a bit cross with her. “Pretty sure it’ll take a while to convince the cop!”

Shooting a last glare at Sans, she walked the length of the room and saw herself out, slamming the door behind her.

I stared at it for a moment.

“I know I said I didn’t care before, but… what the hell is going on with you two, Sans?”

“He’s gone,” Molly replied. I turned around. Indeed, he had left as well. Without a word.

Rude.

“Took his laptop with him, too,” my student muttered.

* * *

Becoming the teacher of a rebellious teen who came into her magic in the late stages of puberty has its clear disadvantages—but on the other hand, you do always have the opportunity to get a better grasp on the basics.

Teaching Molly was no exception. I had usually relied on my strengths and brute force before, often ignoring balancing and intricate details if I didn’t deem them practical. By now, I had made some good progress, which also meant I could use some magical trinkets I hadn’t been able to before.

One of these trinkets was a speaking stone—a neat little communication device of smooth, rounded obsidian that _didn’t_ blow a fuse for every tiny spark of magic, but at the same time was maddingly delicate in its use.

Usually, I had it lying in a cigar box, together with some other, similar-looking but completely normal stones. The best hiding place for a tree is a forest, after all. Though recently, I kept it on me most of the time; since coming into my role regarding the Monsters, I had regularly used it to report advancements to Ebenezar McCoy. My old mentor had been the one to craft the stones, and there weren’t all that many around in the first place, so that line of information made sense.

Unfortunately, it also meant that I couldn’t just ignore a call coming from that speaking stone.

Molly was about to complete her veil, when Ebenezar’s voice interrupted me in my thoughts as I tried to give her some helpful advice. I told her to keep it up until she wouldn’t be able to see herself in the mirror anymore, and went over to the spot where the coffee table had stood before.

Fumbling the stone out of my pocket, I sat down on my armchair and closed my eyes, concentrating on the connection. When I opened them again, my surroundings had faded out into an ink-black space, and the familiar figure of the old man had appeared before me, wearing what suspiciously looked like pajamas and a dressing gown. I made a quick mental calculation and came to the conclusion that it had to be midnight at his place.

Provided he was in Scotland right now.

“You look tired, boy,” he said.

“Yeah, well,” I muttered, “I feel like I’ve been playing nanny for a bunch of supernatural kids today.”

His face contorted in surprise. “They are in Chicago? Hoss, this is something you should have-”

“I also only found out yesterday, sir,” I said.

The Council hadn’t been satisfied with the reports I had given them up until now. Which was a given, really. I couldn’t very well tell them about Frisk’s video games, and that left only minute details on the actions of the Monsters. I hadn’t taken the criticism too seriously, though. I was pretty sure that the Merlin had long since sent one of his more obedient boot-lickers over to Mt. Elbert to spy on them for himself, and Ebenezar, while not affirming my suspicions, had never outright denied them.

Apparently that spy hadn’t told the Senior Council about the moving plans either. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t get some enjoyment out of that thought.

“Then don’t look so smug about it,” Ebenezar said semi-seriously. “How are things progressing?”

I gave a short summary, leaving out the hero-business for now. He followed my report with an increasingly contemplative grimace.

“That timing…” he mumbled. “Probably not a coincidence.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

He met my gaze for a second, then took a deep breath.

“I actually called you because of this. I believe that the Monsters won’t be the only visitors you’ll have in the near future.”

He looked bothered. It’s rarely a good thing if the Blackstaff, the only wizard of the Council with a license to kill, looks bothered.

“The dangerous kind?” I guessed. Ebenezar shook his head.

“No, not in particular. Say, Hoss… have you ever heard the name Doris Engelhart?”

I frowned. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t,” he mumbled. “She’s not all that important. Hasn’t been to any Council meetings for a long time—save for the obligatory ones. Keeps to herself, mostly.”

That didn’t sound like something bad per se.

“Has a questionable background at best,” Ebenezar continued. “Decades ago, people she had an adverse opinion towards tended to die in accidents.”

_That_ , however, immediately set the alarm bells ringing.

“Since she’s still alive, I’m guessing that means she didn’t break the First Law?” I probed.

Ebenezar’s jaw hardened visibly. “It means that the Warden responsible for the investigation didn’t find evidence for it.”

I clicked my tongue. “Alright, I’ll be careful. Anything else I should know?”

“Aye. Next time the Monsters decide to move somewhere, you inform me on that same day, Hoss,” he switched back to the original topic. His steely eyes got a scolding quality, so I did the smart thing and obeyed without a witty response.

“Will do, sir,” I said.

Ebenezar nodded. "Godspeed, son," he said and ended the call.

I blinked and returned back to my real surroundings, sitting across from my now very curious and very not-veiled student.

“Who were you talking about?”

I rubbed my hand over my face—keeping up focus magic for so long can get exhausting—and told her. Like always when Molly learns about something potentially dangerous, she gets excited rather than thoughtful. Perks of being young and inexperienced.

“A German witch?” She grinned, finally. “I did _nazi_ that coming.”


	7. Uncomfortable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Well... hello there.   
> I really am sorry it took me so long to post the next few chapters. There were several reasons for this—turns out, dealing with all the bureaucracy that comes with planning and entering a study abroad programme demands more time than I initially thought. Aside from a pretty important test that I completely flunked and then sorting out the remifications...  
> Well, that, and I really wasn't satisfied with how these chapters (which I just wanted to release in one sweep, rather than one after another) turned out for the longest time. I'm still not, but I guess at this point I can't really improve on it except if I started completely from the beginning.   
> And I don't want that.   
> So, sorry for the delay, and I hope you'll still enjoy these couple of chapters! 
> 
> Here's a summary of what happened in the chapters before, for everyone who doesn't want to bother re-reading stuff:  
> Harry started his day reclaiming an object Marcone had and the Council wanted back.  
> He then went home, only to find Sans and Papyrus waiting in front of his door. His new neighbours came, a bit late, too inform him about plans to put two Monster families, plus Undyne and the skeleton brothers into Chicago, testing the waters for the other Monsters. Later that evening, Harry meets up with his teenage-years sweetheart Elaine to share new info. Elaine tells him about a promising new young recruit she's found, maybe someone who'd need the guidance of the council. She then makes him aware of Undyne already spreading chaos elsewhere in the city.  
> When checking up on Undyne, Harry finds her outside a partly burning building. Incidentally, Murphy's also present due to a strange call she got from one of Marcone's men. After a good scolding, Murphy decides to have Undyne live with her for the time being.  
> Papyrus watches TV and decides Chicago needs a superhero.   
> The next day, Harry and Murphy have a meeting with the newcoming Monster families in Harry's flat. One of the Monster children shows particular promise in using the veiling-tech of the Monsters, in the sense that he can veil others while using it through touch. Harry and Murphy find out that Frisk has told the Monsters of their killing spree timeline.  
> In the evening, Harry finds out about Papyrus' hero-plans; He begrudgingly allows it. Much to his and Molly's confusion, Undyne seems to have a newly found disdain for the shorter skeleton, and neither find it necessary to explain where it stems from.  
> When the Monsters have left his apartment, Harry takes a call with his old mentor. Ebenezar takes the information about the Monsters moving in, does some scolding and warns Harry about a potential threat heading towards Chicago as well, in the form of German witch Doris Engelhart.  
> I think those were the most important points.  
> Have fun!

## Frisk

### Uncomfortable

Mt. Elbert; Mountain Time Zone: Two hours earlier than in Chicago… (around 4pm)

“There! Pull that lever, and from there you can grab on the handles and swing to the ladder!”

Frisk giggled at Monster Kid’s genuine excitement and did as they had been told. Their game character swung around the handle for a few times, its body dangling dangerously over a bottomless crevasse until Frisk made it let go, fly forward with the certain aim of a professional bar gymnast and stick the landing onto the rungs of the ladder.

“That is SO awesome!” the little armless yellow lizard Monster cheered, jumping up and down on the couch. “Ya think Undyne could do the same? I bet she could!”

Frisk was about to agree, but an amused snort from their other side beat them to it. Corbyn got up and stretched his arms towards the wooden ceiling.

“She shouldn’t, because many of those jumps aren’t physically possible. But I’ve seen that fish carry six tree trunks up a mountain, so…”

Ah, right. Undyne _had_ done that.

It had all happened in the spirit of building a make-shift village for the Monsters. One by one, they had replaced their tents with somewhat solid log cabins. What would normally take at least a few months had all been managed within the first three weeks after Mr. Dresden had left. Of course, most of it had only been possible because of the Monsters’ magic—as well as their determination not to live in tents anymore. It _did_ get cold at night, after all.

With the help of the rest of the royal guard, Undyne had cleared the caved in parts of the Underground and cut down and debranched a lot of the eerily straight trees around Snowdin. The logs had then been processed by the jelly-like Moldsmals, who dissolved the trees’ bark and absorbed any parasites residing within the wood. After that, the logs had quickly been dried by the fire magic of Monsters from Hotland and handed over to the Monsters entrusted with the construction of the cabins. Everyone that wasn’t directly involved with the building process took care of food and other necessities. Once the huts were finished, the Monsters all took off to take their basic furniture out of the Underground into the newly built housing.

Not only was it a collective project that brought the individual Monsters close together and gave them something akin to a new temporary homes, but it also distracted from the absence of their king.

Unfortunately, because they were finished with the basic buildings fairly quickly, the distraction didn’t last very long. Apart from the Monsters that could do electrical work and went on to build generators with Alphys’ guidance, everyone else had nothing but free time on their hands.

And with free time came the questions…

“Well, anyways, it’s about 4pm, so I’ll split here,” Corbyn said, dragging Frisk back to the present. The vaguely Asian boy continued, putting his left shoe on. “It’s a shame that Sans isn’t here. Visiting you lot was so much easier when he could just teleport to my house and back.” He put his hand in the pockets of his jacket and gave an impish smile. “Yeah, I know, he's not a taxi You don't have to give me that look, Frisk.”

Corbyn was one of the three students that still adamantly kept up the connection to the Monsters—actually with the knowledge of their parents. The four adults had been carefully included into the circle of “humans that know” after Amy's mother and Mrs. Davis had vouched for them. While the other three parents had shown the typical mixture of shock, then gradual acceptance, Mrs. Jung's initial reaction had been a bit... off. She had taken in the Monsters' appearance, blinked twice, and then proceeded as if nothing weird had happened. Shortly after that, she had talked her son into lending his gaming console to Frisk and the Monster children of the camp—as an act of kindness towards his friends and a sign for welcoming them.

Frisk was thankful when the children dropped by. However, in the future their visits would probably have to become sparser. Without Sans picking them up and taking them back home on time, they could only get to the Mountain if park ranger Mr. Davis took them there by car, followed by a two hour climb up to the Monster village. A distance that had to be walked back in the evening, of course.

A lot of work for eleven-year-old children. And not entirely without risk.

The mountainside was home to not only one kind of monster after all.

Monster Kid somersaulted from the couch, gaining enough momentum to get up in one swift motion.

“Ya think ya could bring something new next time? We’re mostly through this one and your stuff is the coolest out of all of the games!”

Frisk smiled sardonically. Toriel certainly didn’t think so—it had taken her quite some time until she decided they could continue with the games the Asian-American lent out. If they followed the age-restrictions, Frisk actually shouldn’t be playing any of them.

To be put bluntly, neither should Corbyn.

The boy struggled to put his other shoe on and smirked.

“Sure, why not. I gotta say though-” he eyed Frisk, pondering. “Do you do anything else other than game the whole day? You finish these really quickly.”

“I… don’t go out that much anymore,” Frisk admitted, pausing the game and evading the older child’s attentive stare. Their stomach curled in on itself, hardening to an uncomfortable, icy lump.

“Thought as much, but why?”

Corbyn’s dark eyes didn’t waver, detecting the distraction attempts as they came. Uncomfortable, Frisk pressed their forearms against their chest and sucked their lower lip between the teeth, growing more anxious by the second.

“Do you know how _boring_ this mountain gets after a few weeks?” Monster Kid chimed in, unobtrusively placing himself between Corbyn and Frisk. He gave the boy a wide grin—contrasting with the increasing tension in his body. “Imagine being stuck here for several months! We’ve run out of brooks to build damns on!”

From behind Monster Kid, Frisk stole a hesitant glance at Corbyn. He didn’t look convinced. Nevertheless, he raised his hands and allowed a lax laugh. “Sure, I guess I get that.”

* * *

As Monster Kid went with Corbyn to see the boy and Mr. Davis off, Frisk shut off the gaming console and went on to stare flatly at the screen. Eventually, they heard MK stride back in and halt at the door—his figure mirroring on the black canvas of the TV. The sounds of aimed steps resumed, and the little lizard Monster made a point out of face-planting right next to them.

Violently ripped out of their daze, Frisk quickly searched their friend’s face for any injuries when he got back up again.

“Your mom’s gone out,” MK reported easily and stretched out on the wooden floor. “Wanna play catch until she comes back?”

Frisk didn’t answer immediately, their thoughts wandering back to the conversation with Corbyn—and all the uncomfortable hidden truths that had returned with it.

“You don’t have to do this,” they muttered eventually. Monster Kid frowned, turning his head over to them.

“What?”

Frisk sighed. “You know what I mean.”

Their eyes flickered back to the screen, promising the escape into another realm—one where the issues were easy to solve and moral problems clearly black and white. They heard an exasperated grunt.

“Ah, so you _are_ talking about _that_ again.”

Frisk’s gaze dropped to the floor, only to meet MK’s critical stare. The lizard Monster had shimmied over the floor, stopping shortly before their lap.

“Why are you still so hung up about that?”

Frisk let out an unbelieving snort. “Why _aren’t_ you?”

“Ey, I’m not dead _now_. Technically, I didn’t even die then, you just tried. And failed. So I don’t see the big deal,” Monster Kid shrugged. His brows furrowed, stretching the golden scales on his face. “I think the adults are overreacting. It’s not like anyone remembers anyway. Honestly, I don’t even really get the concept. It just as well could’ve never happened.”

It was the same conversation all over again. Frisk shook their head, trying to somehow calm their mind.

“It did, though,” they said.

The child Monster groaned. “Not to _me,_ it didn’t. Not _this_ me, anyhoo.”

When Frisk didn’t reply, MK’s annoyed frown turned into something more sympathetic. He seemed to think for a minute, then broadened his face with a wide, toothy smile.

“I’ve got a great idea! Told ya, Toriel’s out—so let’s raid the kitchen!” He grinned playfully. “It’s the perfect opportunity to get to the cookie jar.”

MK gathered momentum and swung himself back on his feet, nudging Frisk with the side of his head.

“Come on, you big depressing doofus! On your feet! Have those arms of yours be useful for a change!”

Frisk managed a tentative smile and followed the enthusiastic Monster child out of the door. Throwing a last, hesitant glance into the room they hadn’t left much anymore for three months, they carefully closed it and then turned to go after MK.

Toriel’s cabin was the only one that had rooms adjacent to each other—mostly because the newly founded Council had needed a meeting room of sorts, and somewhat because the Monster in charge of building had been insistent about royalty needing privacy; many Monsters came for advice or to express their concerns (as of recently, it had been mostly barely hidden complaints) after all, and that just couldn’t be done very well with the queen’s bed standing in the background. During the building process the initially planned cabin had evolved into an almost legitimate house, with four rooms in total: a kitchen functioning as a meeting and dining room; a living room Frisk was using as their own; a storage room; and lastly, Toriel’s bedroom. The four chambers were arranged in an angular U-shape, the meeting room and Frisk’s room on opposite ends, all connected by an aisle that had the main door in its center.

As Frisk’s eyes flickered towards the open kitchen door, they spotted Monster Kid already struggling to push a chair towards the higher shelves that held the desired cookie jar. Frisk couldn’t help but smile and move forward; slowly at first, but then noticing their steps getting lighter with every meter they covered.

The child had almost switched into somewhat of a skipping movement when they passed the main door—just as it opened.

Frisk froze, a deer caught in the headlights.

“Queen To-” The visitor’s gaze halted on the human, jaw stiffening. It was the bear from Snowdin; the one who had originally thought about becoming a mayor of a sort. Behind him were two others: Yule, a female gyftrot, a deer Monster; and Kafcord, a male pyrope, a burning rope Monster from the Hotlands; both carefully glancing around the massive jumpsuit-wearing brown bear in front of them.

The bear’s name, was, of course: Bear. Because that was just how the naming sense of the Monsters worked sometimes.

Frisk’s mouth went dry, their tongue feeling weirdly numb. Their surroundings faded into grey as they stood there, unable to move, uncertain what to say.

It was a nauseating sort of nervousness. A month ago, Frisk would’ve never noticed just how much the dry wooden walls creaked under the heat of Kafcord’s flames, or how pointy Yule’s antlers were. The child’s eyes flickered over to the brown bear’s massive claws clutching the doorknob.

As if on cue, said claws’ grip crushed the handle. All three Monsters flinched in unison. Frisk took a step back.

Bear glanced awkwardly at the splinters in his paw and managed a muffled ‘sorry’, before wiping it off on his jumpsuit. He cleared his throat, barely looking at the human child in front of him.

“Is, uhm… is the queen around?”

Frisk quietly shook their head. The bear looked troubled.

“Hm. What to do…”

“Frisk?”

Monster Kid’s voice echoed from the kitchen, followed by the sound of footsteps. “Dude, what’s taking y- oh. Hey guys! Why’re you here?” The yellow lizard pranced in front of Frisk, levelling a questioning look at the brown bear.

“You sure you trust _that_ behind your back?” The pyrope hissed.

Monster Kid met his hostile stare stubbornly. “Yep.”

“Cut that out, Kafcord,” Yule admonished the rope Monster, throwing a sympathetic glance at Frisk. The gyftrot stepped inside and moved to the left, presenting a fourth figure that had been blocked out of view until then.

Monster Kid staggered backwards, eyes comically wide. Frisk’s heartrate shot up considerably, but at least they managed to stand their ground.

The figure—a pretty, young human girl on first glance, barely a head taller than Frisk—raised her head and offered a lovely smile. Silver locks of hair curled around her slim figure, transitioning almost seamlessly into her airy dress. From her back, a pair of transparent wings, similar to those of a dragonfly, sprouted out to either side.

A fairy.


	8. Come Over For Dinner

### Come Over For Dinner

“As you can see,” Yule said, “we ran across one of… them. We didn’t talk to her, but she wouldn’t leave us alone. So…” She lowered her head, at a loss for words.

“So we decided to drop her off here,” the bear finished.

The fairy tittered, her hand put over her mouth in a mock-polite gesture. Her voice tinkled like small tin bells in the wind; but at the same time, it came off hollow, cold. Frisk shuddered when their eyes fell onto the fairy’s hands. On her finger tips were spots and smears of a rusty red color.

Blood.

For a second, Frisk’s breathing came to a halt. Maybe Corbyn and Mr. Davis… but no. It couldn’t be.

Could it?

Frisk glanced at the fairy’s face, only to turn pale. They had caught the mystical creature’s attention. The fairy must have noticed the human child’s panic; her smooth, rosy lips turned into an amused smile.

“It appears that your queen is indisposed,” she sang, moving a step forward in a grace that could only be described as floating. “The next course of action includes waiting for her, I presume? I must say, you are… very well _trained_.”

Her words had only just left her mouth, but they hit the intended mark. Bear span around, growling angrily at the fairy. The slender girl, half his size, smiled back at him calmly.

“This is ridiculous,” the bear roared, clenching his paws into a giant fist. “I can and _will_ talk to anyone I very well please to!”

“Wait, Bear,” the deer cried out, “we can’t just ignore her Majesty’s…”

“I will _not_ stand for us adults being treated like children!” The bear countered, irate.

He punched against the wooden door, leaving behind an impressive indenture.

“Lady Fairy, I must ask you to leave. You are not welcome here,” he rumbled, barely suppressing the irritation in his voice. Whatever she had said on their way here must have taken its toll on him.

The slender girl tilted her head slightly to the side, her smile unwavering.

Encouraged by the bear’s behavior, Kafcord chimed in as well. Throwing another hateful glance at Frisk, he swung his upper body back and forth, giving the impression of a nod.

“Yeah! Get out and take _that_ thing with you, while you’re at it!”

Frisk froze.

“Hey!” Monster Kid yelled.

“Kafcord, how could you?!” Yule exclaimed.

The pyrope rolled his eyes. “What? Nobody feels safe with either of them around. That way, both problems are solved.”

The fairy’s smile had brightened up considerably at the rope Monster’s offer. Frisk felt their knees buckle.

“Oh my,” she hummed, “what an interesting request. If I were to agree, how do you expect to repay me?”

“W-wait-” Frisk stammered. “You can’t-”

“He won’t, cuz you’re not taking _anyone_!” Monster Kid shouted angrily, shielding his friend from the fairy’s gaze as best as he could. Yule stepped to his side, building a front with the small lizard. The brown bear had quietened, visibly anxious with how his little tantrum was developing.

“Why would I even have to give you something?” The pyrope voiced, confused. “You’d be getting something out of it. Isn’t that-”

“Ah ah ah,” the fairy shook her head. “You are the one to ask for a favor; naturally the burden of compensation lies with you.”

The rope Monster stood still for a second, contemplative. Then, he started rocking back and forth again.

“Hm. Sounds logical. I have no idea what to give you, though. ‘s there anything you want?”

Frisk’s heart skipped a beat as the fairy’s smile turned into a wide grin, giving a short view on two rows of sharp, pointy teeth. Kafcord was about to do something really, really dangerous. That much, the human child new.

They had seen that sort of grin before, after all.

“Don’t!” They exclaimed, forcing their legs to carry them forward. They ran past Yule and Monster Kid before either of the two could stop them, and slid between the fairy and the pyrope, arms outstretched, facing the girl.

Kafcord hissed, jumping backwards.

“S-stay away, you-”

Frisk ignored him, and instead engaged in a stare-down with the fairy.

“L-leave him- no.” They stopped themself mid-sentence.

They had to be smart about this.

_Do not make a request._

“There’s a reason why they’re not allowed to talk to your kind,” they stammered out quickly, not leaving the fairy out of their sight for even a second. The magical creature seemed amused, which was probably better than insulted. Still, Frisk felt like a mouse squeaking protests against a cat. This sort of behavior wasn’t going to stop the fairy from whatever she wanted to do.

But she wasn’t really the one Frisk was talking to anyway.

“Back then, Mo-”

_No names._

“I mean, a wizard warned us. The queen as well. Faeries are known for tricking others into bargains.”

The girl arched an eyebrow.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Uhm, I mean…” Frisk took a deep breath, trying to find a different choice of words. “You… you shouldn’t just enter into a contract if you don’t know what the other side might want. And… always consider the consequences. It… could turn out… worse than you think.”

Here was begging that Kafcord would get the hint. Toriel _had_ repeatedly explained why the Monsters shouldn’t talk to the fairies in the first place. The queen _herself_ avoided conversation with their kind as much as possible, after all. Hopefully the pyrope would remember and stop digging his own grave.

The girl’s grin became feral.

“Frisk, I assume?” Her eyes glinted dangerously. “How curious.”

“What is?” The child managed. The fairy let out a single, lighthearted chuckle.

“You certainly do not strike me as a mass murderer.”

Frisk blanched. What? Where… how…

“And yet… so much concern for these _creatures_ ,” she hummed, her expression morphing into something more intense. Her facial features grew sharper, almost birdlike; the smile was gone. “Truly an enigma.”

She stepped closer, bent down and reached for Frisk’s face.

Screaming loudly, Monster Kid jumped out of the house to come to his friend’s aid; only to be blown away by a cold gust of wind, sending the lizard crashing into the cabin walls. He slid down to the ground, groaning in pain. Kafcord, finally realizing his mistake, cried out in surprise and quickly hopped over to the crumbled form of the Monster child.

Determined not to submit to their fear any more, Frisk forced themself to stay still as the fairy touched their skin. Her fingers were cold and carried various scents; air after fresh snowfall mixed with a dusty road; and a trace of blood.

Out of the corner of their eye they registered quick movements—Yule had leaped out of the house and was fleeing in terror. In a slight panic for the deer Monster, Frisk studied the fairy’s face; but she completely disregarded the gyftrot’s escape.

She didn’t care for the Monsters anymore. It probably had been Frisk she’d wanted in the first place.

Though Frisk wasn’t sure what that meant for their situation, it granted them some relief.

“Bear, Kafcord; please take Kid and go,” they said. “I think she wants to talk to me.”

“But-” Bear hesitated, his voice tinged with guilt.

“Go,” Frisk repeated sternly.

The fairy’s smile returned.

“Bad child,” she scolded smoothly as the Monsters followed Frisk’s request and left the scene. Mostly to gather some courage Frisk tried a smile themself and nodded towards the cabin.

“Want to come in—I mean, for this talk?” the child stammered.

Wasn’t there something about thresholds and allowing dangerous creatures inside? Had they already screwed up? Maybe. Probably.

The fairy certainly didn’t give anything away. She nodded, gracefully extending her arm, gesturing for Frisk to go first. Frisk swallowed, trying to get the dry sensation out of their mouth, and went in. Automatically, they headed for the kitchen; in the end, it was partly a meeting room, so it only fit.

Halfway towards the small table at the back of the chamber, they caught a quick idea.

“Would you like some cookies?” They blurted out without thinking, spinning around and almost burying their face in the fairy’s neck.

Too close, way too close! Frisk yelped and tripped over their own feet, landing on their behind.

The fairy tilted her head inquiringly.

“In exchange for what?”

The child faltered, and was about to backpedal. But then, something else came to mind.

“I’d like to ask—no.”

_Being allowed to ask isn’t equal to receiving an answer._

“I’d like you to tell me something,” they said.

_They can't lie._

“Ah, information,” she cooed. “The most valuable of all trade wares.”

“The cookies are very good,” Frisk tried weakly, getting back on their feet. The fairy chuckled, appearing almost friendly. _Almost_.

“Ask, and I’ll decide,” she said.

Not a very strong start. But then again, the odds of this situation turning out well weren’t very high anyway. Frisk took a deep breath.

“I’d… I’d give you five for an answer.”

‘ _Some’ is too vague. And there’s only seven in that jar in any case. There’s nothing else to trade with._

“Did… did you see any other humans besides me on the mountain… today?”

If not, then Corbyn and Mr. Davis should be fine—at least regarding _this_ fairy. Satisfied with their wording, the human child stepped towards the kitchen counter, climbed on top of the stool and readied themself to reach for the cookie jar; they had a feeling the fairy would agree to this kind of bargain. With a conversation partner like them, this would be literally child’s play; not an opportunity she would pass on, right?

“So you receive visitors,” the fairy replied nonchalantly, slowly sitting down at the Council/dinner table.

Frisk almost fell from the stool. Hectically, they waved around with their arms to regain their balance, managed to grab onto one of the higher shelfs and took a second to calm down. Out of the corner of their eye they noticed the victorious smirk of the creature. If she had only guessed before, now she knew for sure.

_Darn it._

Supporting her head with her hand, the girl snickered. “Fine, I’ll give you this. No, I haven’t encountered any.”

Frisk felt their stiff body ease up a little. One less thing to worry about.

Carefully, as not to drop the jar of Toriel’s homemade cookies, the child hopped down from the stool and made their way back to the table. Pulling out most of the baked goods, they put them into the upturned lid of the jar—in their general stress they had forgotten to bring a proper plate.

The fairy took the offering with the condescending amusement adults show towards kids they don’t take seriously at all. So she really seemed to take it easy… for now.

_Good. Hopefully it’ll stay that way._

…

It didn’t.

The moment the first sweet treat had passed her lips, the fairy’s eyes lit up in excitement. Savoring the taste, her pupils slowly started to dilate, growing large enough to reach both the upper and the lower rim of her eyes, leaving their irises as no more than an almost unperceivable rim of light blue. She stifled a giggle, ending up in a snort—very much unlike the graceful demeanor she had shown up until then. Her eyes zoomed in on the other four offerings Frisk had made, and her mouth opened, letting out a delighted grunting noise. Quicker than the naked eye could see, another cookie had vanished.

At that part, the fairy had lost all of her dignified aura.

She started to _drool_.

Confused and frightened, Frisk dared not to move and left her to her devices. What was going on?

_This can't be good._

That suspicion was confirmed when the third and fourth treat were wolfed down. Her breathing sped up, changing into an audible pant. Quickly, the last cookie was gone as well, and the fairy’s now bloodshot eyes flashed over to the remaining ones in the jar.

A jar which, unfortunately, still stood right in front of Frisk.

A pale tongue slivered out of the fairy’s mouth, twitching with every heaving breath she took.

“Give,” she growled, her voice hoarse and unsteady.

Their fingers clammy and pale, Frisk made an attempt to grip the jar.

“Wh-what do I get in-”

“Give, or I slaughter.”

Frantically, the child turned over the glass and watched the two cookies fall out. The fairy’s patience visibly snapped, as she lunged forward and grabbed the sweets, salivating all over the place. Frisk shrieked in surprise and seconds later found themself cowering beneath the table. Their chair had toppled over, and they could hear the crazed creature crunching down the last remaining cookies, followed by an eerie silence.

Then:

“More.”

The glass jar shattered against the wooden wall. Frisk dared to look and paled when the fairy’s mad face was only inches from theirs. She had gone on all fours, and crawled halfway into their badly chosen hiding spot.

“Give more. Or else.”


	9. Rules of Hospitality

### Rules of Hospitality

It was moments like these when Frisk was glad they had faced life-threatening situations before. They knew that their time in the Underground—and in big parts their time with Chara—had changed them radically in some ways. They certainly did not have the mental age nor the thought processes of a child their age anymore. It helped.

Not too much, but it helped.

Enough for them to take a deep breath and carefully try and talk their way out.

“I d-don’t have any,” they stammered, though their voice grew more steady with every word. Meeting the fairy’s deranged stare, they continued. “But if you kill me now, you won’t get any ever again.”

Maybe the situation would have been funny. Bargaining one’s life over cookies. Then again, Frisk had been in dangerous situations caused by even less of a motivation before.

The creature took her time to reply.

“Not ever?”

Her strange state seemed to have reduced her speech to one to two words per sentence. Nevertheless, Frisk breathed out in relief over getting through… somewhat.

“No. They’re… Mom makes them. And she won’t make any if you kill me.”

The fairy’s eyes took in a dangerous gleam.

“Hostage,” she croaked, clumsily reaching for Frisk’s face. Her sharp nails scratched over their skin, leaving behind a thin, open line. The child gulped, feeling something warm and wet trailing down their cheek.

“N-no,” Frisk managed, leaning away. “I-”

Bam! The kitchen door flew open, crashing loudly against the wall, its hinges creaking miserably from the force. Instinctively, Frisk turned their head to see the source of the noise.

Toriel was standing in the door frame, panting loudly, a grim expression on her usually gentle face. A quick look, and her eyes narrowed, focusing in on the two small figures huddled under her kitchen table. With a unintelligible scream, she struck one arm forward, summoning a blue fire ball in the small gap between Frisk and the fairy. The fire grew, exploding towards the mythical creature, and splitting the massive table in two, launching both halfs to the opposite ends of the room. Frisk, completely spared by Toriel's magic, took the chance, pushed themselves onto their feet and fled towards the goat Monster.

Toriel caught them midway, tugging the child into a fiercely protective embrace. Frisk let themself be engulfed in the familiar presence for a second, then turned back to the situation at hand, struggling around in Toriel’s hold to see what was happening.

The magical fire had left a scorch mark on the ground. One half of the kitchen table had been tossed into the cupboard, the other was stuck to the wall. The fairy lied sprawled over the ground, gathering herself together, still a crazed look to her. She fixated onto Toriel, opening and closing her moth several times like a gaping fish until her voice came out.

“I want more cookies.”

Frisk felt Toriel tense behind them, the Monster goat's paws' grip hardening around their shoulders.

“My hospitality has reached an end, sylph. You are not welcome in this home any longer.”

“But... I want more cookies,” the fairy repeated, sitting up, apparently unable to grasp Toriel's words. Her head sagged forwards, her eyes still wide and dark.

“They'll take time to make, I'm afraid,” Toriel replied, her voice cold. “Now get out before I throw you out.”

The fairy bent her head back and laughed; the sound closer to cackling. Still, though her breathes were shallow and quick and her voice raspy, she slowly regained some of her initial composure.

“You alone are not strong enough, _Apohtin_.”*

Her bleary eyes wandered down to Frisk, then back to Toriel. “And the toddler is not going to be any help.” A remnant of her earlier mischievous grin flashed over her face.

“In fact, hasn't this one been more of a chore than anything?”

Gradually, her breathing slowed. She sluggishly felt around behind her, and struggled to get back on her feet. Her haughty grin vanished. Swaying from side to side, she put her free hand on her face to ground herself. She only looked back up when shuffling steps were approaching from the hallway.

Frisk didn't need to try and get a view. They knew whom these steps belonged to.

**“seems weird to pick a fight with someone you want treats from.”**

Sans closed in at Toriel's side, watching the fairy lazily.

 **“** _**fairy** _ **weird.”**

The girl's eyes narrowed into two slits, her brows plowed downwards. Her upper lip rose, flashing her abnormally white teeth.

“We meet again, bone man,” she hissed.

 **“not my fault. i'm just here to** _**pixie** _ **someone up.”**

The fairy stiffened, throwing short glances from one adult Monster to the other, then down at her own buckling knees. The smile that had come so easily to her before was now a weak tug at the corners of her mouth.

“I suppose I am in no state to take these matters any further... for now.”

She gave a short, courteous nod; its effect neutered by her unstable stance.

“And I figure it would be impolite to stay any longer,” she added, observing the Monsters closely. Probably expecting an attack, now that she was visibly weakened.

Toriel stepped aside and extended one arm towards the door, her jaw tight, pressing Frisk against her once more, as the fairy made her way through between her and a very silent Sans.

“Do not bother my child or my people ever again, sylph,” Toriel spoke gravely.

The girl paused for a second, turning her face up to the queen of the Monsters. Her lips twitched, amused.

“Is that a threat?”

“It's well-meant advice,” Toriel rebutted coldly, “you may take it as you will.”

When the fairy didn't seem very impressed, the goat's voice reached a sharp edge Frisk had never heard her use before.

“Our species may be different, young one. But royals know each other.”

At that, the fairy faltered, nodded, and finally hurried out of the kitchen, turning right at the main door and vanishing from sight.

Immediately, Frisk found themself grabbed by the shoulders and held in front of Toriel. The queen's eyes were wide and concerned, tears welling up and moistening her fur.

“Frisk! Are you alright, my child? Did she do anything to you? Are you hurt anywhere?”

 **“think they got away with a scratch,”** Sans commented. The skeleton was leaning against the door frame and winked at them. **“don't take drugs, kid. see what happens?”**

Ears and muzzle drooping, Toriel gently reached out to stroke Frisk’s hair.

“I am so sorry I wasn’t here earlier, my child. It must have been such a frightening experience.”

She shut her eyes tightly.

“Once again, I fail as a mother.”

Hastily, Frisk shook their head and struggled free to get a good look at Toriel’s face. They still felt slightly in a daze, on an adrenaline-high.

“No! No, you saved me! You chased her away! Please…” Their voice ended in a whisper. “Please don’t blame yourself again.”

Toriel opened her eyes, looking at them lovingly. With a warm smile, she drew the child back into her embrace.

“Do not worry about me, Frisk. Now…” She lifted her head, furrowing her brows.

“What exactly happened here?”

Embarrassed, Frisk shuffled their feet and burrowed their face into Toriel’s dress.

“I traded with her.”

One could have heard a feather fall to the ground in the silence that followed. Toriel grew completely stiff.

“You… you did-”

“It’s over!” Frisk hurriedly added. “I don’t owe her anything! It was… I exchanged some cookies in return for information.”

 **“set number?”** Sans asked calmly.

“Five,” Frisk answered quickly, staring widely at Toriel, who appeared to be short of a heart attack. “She took more than that. Please, Mom, calm down!”

The Monster Queen sighed out in relief, and her scared expression gradually morphed into a proud one.

“You are so smart, my child.”

She ruffled their hair. Unwillingly, Frisk scrunched up their nose and put their hands atop their head to evade the affectionate gesture.

“Mooom!”

Toriel chuckled, reached out and tousled the already chaotic strands a bit more, before she finally straightened up and stood as tall as ever. The way Frisk stuck their lip out in a pout while trying to get their long bowl cut back in order led to another amused giggle.

“How did you even know what was going on?” Frisk wondered aloud.

“Yule came running into the meeting in a panic, telling me she’d been searching for me all over the place,” Toriel replied, marching over to the part of the table that was stuck in the wall. After an experimental tug, she yanked it out and set it down. “Thankfully, I met Sans on the way. I might have been too late otherwise.”

She shuddered, as her gaze traced the pieces of glass that were left of the splintered cookie jar.

“We heard glass shattering inside the cabin and figured you'd be there. So I ran in and found you here.”

Toriel paused and frowned, turning her attention to the skeleton, who seemed to be drifting in and out of sleep on his feet.

“Sans? How come she knew you?”

With a startled abrupt snore, Sans was awake again.

 **“oh. that.”** His eyelights evaded his queen’s inquiring stare. **“she was… connected with the ‘undyne incident’. doubt she was here because of that though.”**

Frisk gave the skeleton a curious look. It had been obvious that the relationship between the Monsters' hero and Sans had become… strained a few weeks ago. They had gone out on patrol together and returned late in the evening.

Sans had been so visibly tired that Papyrus had immediately hurried over on sight to pick him up, throw him over his shoulder and carry him to their cabin; and Undyne was in a bad mood.

A really bad mood.

Neither of them had talked about what had happened, so there were many rumors flying around between the Monsters for a few days. In the end, most of them settled on the explanation that Sans must’ve played an especially nasty prank on Undyne, one that had her chase him up and down the mountainside afterwards. It didn't take too long for the two of them appearing normal again—they didn't use to spend much time with each other anyway—so most of the other Monsters felt confirmed in their theory and left it at that.

But it wasn't the same as before.

When the skeleton brothers came over for dinner and the topic went on to Undyne, Papyrus reacted strangely put down—though he himself didn't seem to know what was going on either. During one of their evening gaming sessions, Frisk had gently asked for some info, and gotten an “UNDYNE IS STILL ANGRY WITH SANS.” out of it. Naturally, Sans was as silent as a grave.

At times, when the Council met around Toriel's dining table, Frisk could overhear them from their room—still no more than that there had been an “incident”.

Now the frustrating thing was that the child knew both of the people concerned well enough to guess that the problem itself couldn't be too complicated. Sans was just generally bad at smoothing down conflicts. Same went for Undyne, really, but usually she only held on to a grudge in two cases: A, someone threatened her loved ones, or B, her pride was severely hurt. Her being mad at Sans only really left Frisk with the latter option.

And now apparently the fairies were also part of this mess.

“My child?”

Frisk's vacant stare focused back onto Toriel, who had stopped in front of them. Or tried to focus, at least.

Huh? Weird.

Why was everything so... blurry?

The end of an adrenaline rush comes with a bundle of things; you feel a certain cold creep into your body, followed by your legs giving way. In Frisk's case, it was accompanied by a delayed emotional outburst. The aftermath of what had happened was crashing in. The blow of the stress release hit Frisk like a hammer to the chest and forced out a quiet sob, followed by a constant stream of silent tears.

Toriel was back again, down on one knee to face them, and gently held out her hands to ground them, muttering soothing words. Out of the corner of their eyes Frisk registered a white-blue blur—Sans had fled. Maybe to leave them some room. More likely because they were still a bit awkward around each other.

Frisk wasn't sure how long it took them to calm down. Emotional episodes always had a knack of slowing down their perception of time. Once they could grasp a complete sentence again, they took the opportunity of welcome distraction right away.

“I... why did the cookies make the fairy so weird?”

Toriel whisked away the wet trails of tears on their cheeks.

“Monster food... is special. The effect depends on the kind of food and the fairy taking it in.”

She made sure that Frisk was stable again and then got back up, turning her attention to the other part of the broken dinner table, shaking her head.

“We'll need a new one... oh well.” She gave Frisk a sly smile. “You could call me the 'Ter _mom_ inater'.”

Frisk let out an exaggerated groan—just the reaction Toriel wanted.

“No, but really—the reaction the sylph showed is the main reason why we and the fairies had gotten along relatively well in the times before our... banishment,” she continued, gradually falling into lecturer-mode. She had already discussed the buildup of a temporary study space in one of the cabins, so the Monster children wouldn't miss out on their education.

“The higher fairies wanted to keep us around, if only for our food. Lesser fairies were usually only allowed to take in minor crumbs, as the effects could be quite... strong.”

Frisk nodded, absently rubbing their arm at the memory. “Yes, I... I saw.”

Toriel bent down to pick up the glass shards.

“Two more, and she might have exploded,” she muttered, only to freeze and throw a quick look at Frisk. “Forget I said that, my child.”

Despite her pleading eyes, Frisk was sure that they'd never forget _that_ fact, even if they tried. Thankfully, Sans chose that moment to reappear at the door frame.

**“knock knock.”**

“Who's there?” Toriel answered right away, desperate to cross over to a more uplifting topic.

**“gladiator”**

“Gladiator who?”

The skeleton shuffled inside, picked up Frisk's chair and sat down, giving the child a considerate nod before turning his attention towards the queen.

**“gladiatorlier. kid's new merchant attitude robbed me of your cookies.”**

Toriel laughed loudly at that particularly weak joke—especially so, coming from Sans—her shoulders slumping into a more relaxed stance, if only for a second.

Then, she stood still. Staring down at the broken table parts, at the glass shards, at the scorch mark on the ground that her blue fire had left behind. She looked at Frisk—her eyes clouded; followed by the glint of a decision, made in certainty.

“Sans… I’m sorry, but I have a favor to ask of you.”

**“uh, okay? i'd say i'm all ears, but...”**

“You're everything but, I know,” Toriel finished with a sad chuckle. “Now, could you take Frisk with you? To Chicago?”

The question came out of nowhere and hit Frisk like a wave of cold water.

So it had come to this? Did she see them as a nuisance? No. No, that wouldn't be like Toriel. She was only worried about their safety _._ And in the end, did it _really_ come as a shock? It must have been on the queen's mind ever since the plans for moving the selected Monsters over to Chicago. Frisk distinctly remembered Toriel asking Sans whether their rooms could hold more than two people, should a problem arise.

In the end, this must have been something she'd been thinking about for quite some time.

Coming to that conclusion, Frisk opted for listening rather than interference.

“As sad as I am to admit it,” Toriel continued after a moment, “Frisk is not safe with me anymore. Many of the Monsters didn’t take to the… revelations too well, I’m afraid.”

Frisk cringed. They knew exactly what she was talking about, and she was really putting it mildly.

Now that they took another glance at the Monster Queen, they noticed how tired she was. Droopy eyes, her ears held strangely, her whole posture lifeless. She had lost weight, too. The stress of handling her duties of Queen and Mother of an outcast must have demanded a lot from her.

Sans didn't say anything, but his eye-lights dimmed at Toriel's words.

The queen suppressed a sob. “I... I thought it would be fine as long as they weren’t confronted, given some time, but… you see what happened today. I fear it will happen again.”

Frisk felt their tears coming back, along with their shame and a certain amount of self-loathing. Sans' voice cut through the incoming stream of relentless thoughts like a knife through thin cloth.

“ **kid? penny for a thought? put it on my tab.”**

The child took a few calming breaths, hoping that their voice wouldn't give in, and met the skeleton’s gaze.

“I… don’t want to be a burden on Mom anymore,” they whispered. “I’m nothing but trouble lately.”

Sans snorted. **“got that right.”**

“Sans!”

Refilled to the brim with motherly protection, Toriel crouched down, pulled Frisk against her once again and threw a smoldering look towards the skeleton. Giving Frisk's back calming strokes, she muttered quiet encouragments.

“Don't listen to him, my child, don't you ever think you're a burden to me, you hear? If he doesn't want to help, I'll find a solution. Don't-”

Through her well-meant mutterings, Sans yawned, stretched his arms haphazardly towards the ceiling and finally stood up from his seat behind her.

 **“welp, that's that then. pack your stuff, kiddo. pipe up when you’re finished,”** he said. Over Toriel's shoulder, Frisk saw him wink at them tiredly, before vanishing completely.

Throwing a quick, dismissive glance over her shoulder, the queen sighed at the empty spot one of her councilmen had left behind in his typical fashion.

“I do like him, despite his antics. But must he be so insensitive towards you?” She clasped Frisk's shoulders and gave their face a probing look. “It makes me second-guess my efforts to get you somewhere safe, my child.” She looked to the ground, guilt encompassing her next words. “I... I am deeply sorry for sending you away like this.”

Despite the crawling discomfort that came once they contemplated being away from their mother-figure so suddenly, Frisk managed to respond to her words with a smile.

“I meant what I said about not being a burden to you, Mom. No, wait-” they held off any concerned protests Toriel was ready to shoot off. “Even if you don't feel that way, I do. And with what happened just now...” They couldn't stop themselves from shivering at the very recent memory. “I think it's for the best, too.”

A tiny, treacherous tear managed to break from one of their eyes, rattling the strong image they had planned to go with.

“I'll miss you, Mom.”

“I'll miss you too, my child,” she answered, her eyes suspiciously red. She took a deep breath, before standing up to her whole size. “Now I understand that this is sudden. However...”

An enquiring look.

“Do you wish to do anything together before you leave? After you have packed your things, of course; though you do not possess much to pack in the first place.”

Frisk took a moment to consider, until a weirdly ironic idea manifested itself in them.

* * *

About an hour later, all preparations were finished, Frisk was ready to leave. Just as Toriel had foretold, it hadn't taken them too long to pack the meager belongings they had. It had actually taken longer to find a suitable case for stowage.

Together with their mother-figure, they had gone out and said their goodbyes to the Monsters that wanted to hear them. Monster Kid reacted with duly anger at Kafcord, the fairy, the unfairness of the whole situation, really. Then he had went on and asked his parents if he could accompany his friend to Chicago as well, but was vehemently denied his request. The tone of their goodbye was strangely elevated due to his almost comical ability to sulk.

Ready to go, Sans gathered Frisk to his right and Toby, whose departure had been glossed over majorly because of all the fairy-commotion. The small white dog didn't seem to care much.

One moment, they were in the middle of the small, self-built village.

The next, they stood inside Sans' and Papyrus' room, crashing right into a giant bowl of freshly cooked welcome-spaghetti.

Safe to say, Papyrus was not very amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Apohtin, according to Wikipedia, is "a traditional Cypriot dried food made by salted goat meat."  
> I thought it would make sense for a sylph to insult in Greek.


	10. WITH GREAT POWER...

### PAPYRUS

### WITH GREAT POWER...

The sun was setting slowly, and the time was just right. The Great Papyrus, clad splendidly in his tailor-made suit, took another look at his reflection in the frying pan.

Yes. Perfect.

So cool.

The admiring brother was sat at the kitchen table, slurping another of his undefined tomato-smoothies out of a glass mug. A lonely noodle, a reminder of the flawlessly cooked _Spaghetti alla Carrettiera_ he had crash-landed into with the new guests, still hung out of his right eye-socket.

Sans gave a lazy thumbs up and destroyed the atmosphere.

**“looks great, bro.”**

“I KNOW IT DOES! I MADE IT MYSELF, AFTER ALL!”

Flattered nonetheless, Papyrus put the pan back in its place and examined his personally put together outfit. The red rubber boots, outlined with black stripes; the dark pair of trousers complimenting them and the steel-gray long sleeve shirt, proudly bearing a kite in golden and red stripes.

He would have liked to go for more vibrant colors, but his research of superheros had revealed a shocking fact: all the bright colors had already been taken! Except for that one brooding guy in complete gray and black, who looked more like a villain than a hero in any case.

Not wanting to seem like a cheap knockoff, Papyrus had decided to go for a mixture of both; as such, he had finished his fashion statement with golden shoulder armor and more touches of his favorite color; concluding in a flowing red cape, pinned together at the front with a button with his initial; and the signature red gloves from his battle-body.

It just now dawned on Papyrus that he could have just worn the battle-body.

…

No matter.

**“i also made you something, pap,”** Sans proclaimed, sliding down from his chair and shuffling towards him, spaghetti happily dangling from his eye-socket. He shoved his hand into the pocket of his blue jacket and pulled out a strip of black cloth, which had obviously been ripped off from somewhere. Sans held it on one end and let it unravel, exposing two holes that had been crudely cut into the strip.

Naturally, Papyrus was moved to tears.

“A MASK! TO HIDE MY TRUE IDENTITY! I COMPLETELY FORGOT!”

He took it and bound it to his skull, grinning happily at his brother.

“I LOVE IT! THANK YOU, SANS!”

Sans nodded. **“no problem. now...”** His rare 'stern voice' emerged, making Papyrus listen closely. It wasn't often that his brother took something he did seriously.

The noodle _did_ take some of the effect away, if he was going to be honest. Which he was, always.

**“i talked things through with undyne. she knows the best places to go, and should have convinced the cop by now.”** His blueish eyelights dimmed; something that always happened when Sans was concerned.

Which still categorized it as a rare occurrence, as far as Papyrus was aware.

**“pap, if the cop says 'no', undyne won't be able to come with you. in that case, just come back, kay?”** His concern gave way to an encouraging grin. **“we'll find you another chance to be a hero.”**

Papyrus could tell it was hard on Sans to break those news to him. However, he did not plan to give in to disappointment just yet—the female small human had no reason to deny them, did she? In fact, Papyrus was sure she would be thrilled by the prospect of two helping hands added to her protection of the city!

Convinced of his flawless logic, Papyrus applied his human veil to himself, ready to depart.

“DO NOT WORRY, BROTHER! I AM SURE EVERYTHING WILL FALL INTO PLACE!”

**“sure it won't just** **fall flat?** **”**

“... SANS, NO.”

Sans snickered. **“be careful to stick the landing then.”**

“SANS!”

* * *

Outside the building, Papyrus glanced up to the window of the shared flat one last time, before magnificantly throwing his cape over his shoulders and starting his journey to his first stop: The small female human's house.

He didn't know where in particular that would be, but he had the address, and he knew he would have to walk West and cross a river at some point.

“BUCKTOWN,” he said to himself, as of course he knew the address by heart. “SUCH A STRANGE NAME! SANS WOULD MAKE ONE OF HIS HORRID PUNS, CERTAINLY!”

Following the broad street he had chosen, lined with bright lights and tall buildings on either side, filled with the weird mix of smells humans liked having around, he curiously observed the cars passing by, greeting every pedestrian he came across, getting curious expressions as replies. Someone pointed at his cape and whispered something to another human, followed by barely hushed laughter.

Papyrus beamed and let the cape swirl behind him, glad that his hero outfit sparked such positive responses.

Humans seemed to enjoy a grid pattern to their cities—maybe they had difficulties finding the cardinal directions otherwise? That certainly was a reason to feel compassion for those poor directionally challenged people!

Then again, Frisk had never shown any signs of being lost in the Underground. Likely it had some other underlying reason.

How curious.

Papyrus marched along his way for about thirty minutes until he reached Bucktown, and it didn't take him terribly long to find the right house—a tiny thing with a small patch of green at the front. Papyrus nodded approvingly. A small house for a small person.

Giddy with anticipation, Papyrus ran up to the entrance, found the bell and pressed it zealously. To his greatest joy, the female human put much effort in answering her door; at least it took only ten seconds until the house was opened to him. Her body was covered by beige, over-sized pajamas, and she did that thing with her eyebrow that fascinated him.

“GREETINGS, SMALL HUMAN BY THE NAME OF MURPHY!” He exclaimed, genuinely happy to see her. “I HAVE COME TO PICK UP MY PARTNER IN JUSTICE!”

Murphy stared up at his human-hero costume with an expression he could only interpret as tired. No surprise, it was late in the evening, after all!

“... come in, Papyrus. I don't want complaints from my neighbors,” she sighed, opening the door a bit farther and inviting him in. Without dropping his human-veil, the skeleton waltzed over the doorstep, looking around for Undyne. He was very excited to see if she had come up with an outfit as well.

The inside of the small human's house had a... unique style to it. Certainly not what he had expected from a human female as stern as her. Showing his respect for the surely self-made doilies, Papyrus inspected the handcrafted decorations placed sensibly on the free flat surfaces of the ornate wooden furniture. He had some experience in crocheting as well, though he hadn't quite come across patterns such as these. It appeared as if Murphy had a hidden talent!

Most intriguing.

Undyne was spread out on her stomach on the sofa in the center of the room, very much _not_ in hero-esque clothes, not even disguised as a human. She acknowledged his presence with a brisque “harrumph” and turned her head so she was hiding her face in a pillow. Papyrus was a wee bit disappointed, but not too surprised.

Undyne had her moods sometimes. Maybe it was because she was a fish.

“UNDYNE! LET US GO AND CONFRONT EVIL-DOERS!”

The fish moved, but only so far that she could place her chin on the pillow and stare blearily at the small blonde human, who stood aside, arms crossed.

“Tell that to her, Pap, not to me,” Undyne grumbled.

“NYEH HEH HEH!” He blurted, proudly putting his hands on his hips. “I AM ONE STEP AHEAD OF YOU, PARTNER! I ALREADY DID THAT!”

Unimpressed, Undyne continued staring accusingly at the small human.

“Then listen to her answer.”

Confused, Papyrus turned back to Murphy. Could that _actually_ mean...

“You're not going anywhere. Neither of you are,” she stated.

Papyrus faltered, his arms falling to his sides. “BUT-”

“No buts,” the small human said, moving forward and maneuvering him over to a chair so he would take a seat. “I am a cop, for god's sake! I will _not_ have two _children_ running around at night, playing vigilante! Not on my watch.”

“I'm NOT a child!” Undyne finally protested, insulted. She propped herself up on her forearms and met the intimidating human's eyes with an equally strong-willed glare.

“You've been sulking on that couch for three hours since I said no,” Murphy replied coolly. “You have yet to convince me.”

She shot a mildly intimidating look at Papyrus, who courteously put his legs together and sat in a well-behaved manner. “Do tell Dresden that he's got it coming for just pushing this on me.”

Her expression smoothed over into something more gentle, maybe even apologetic.

“Sorry, Papyrus, but I can't endorse this... fun plan of yours. If you want to help, maybe you can apply for a job in the police force... some time in the future,” she added, sounding unsure.

Papyrus glanced down at the hero-gloves in his lap.

“Think about it like this,” the small human continued, “you and Undyne have a duty, too. To protect your people. Maybe find a way to... integrate into human society and find the right connections. For when you want to reveal yourselves.”

But that was precisely what he had wanted to achieve with-

He felt a supporting hand on his shoulder joint and looked back up.

“Don't worry too much about us humans. We have our own heroes. Maybe-”

The female human was cut off mid-sentence by a silent, yet distinctive rumbling sound from outside, echoing through the night from afar, almost too silent to be picked up. However, being experienced with the type of sound, Papyrus immediately recognized it for what it was.

Of course, so did Undyne. In a split second, the fish Monster was off the couch and ready to go.

“THAT was an explosion!” she yelled. “Something blew up half a mile away!”

Shocked, but back in control in an instant, Murphy made a beeline towards a knee-high, dark wood round table in the corner of the room and picked up a phone and a key—presumably the one matching with the front door, Papyrus deduced.

“Now stay here,” she instructed, scrambling for another set of keys inside a narrow single drawer beneath the table. “I'll go and try to find out what that was. In the meantime-”

“BUT UNDYNE HAS ALREADY LEFT,” Papyrus informed her politely.

The small female jolted, frantically confirming his claim with a quick scan of the room. The hand holding phone and keys fell to her side. She spat out a bad word, blatantly ignoring his disapproving frown.

“Is she a freaking toddler?!” She ranted on, running towards a narrow wardrobe next to her front door. She put the phone aside, opened the cabinet doors and dragged out a uniformed jacket that Papyrus had seen quite a few times on other humans since he had come to the city. Slipping into her clothes, she grabbed the phone again.

“ARE WE GOING AFTER HER?” Papyrus dared to ask, meeting her steely gaze sincerely. Her gaze was quickly accompanied by a pointed finger.

“No. You stay here and I...” She groaned, staring at the door Undyne had left open. “Then again...”

She took a deep breath and mumbled something about 'dragging _her_ back will be a hassle'. “Yes. _We_ are going after her.”

“YIPPEE!”

The small human blinked. “... good. Now, Papyrus-”

“I WILL FIND HER! I AM THE BEST UNDYNE-FINDER THERE IS!” He proclaimed proudly and stood up, marching towards Murphy and the front door.

“Sure you are,” she muttered, gently but resolutely pushing him out of the house and locking the door behind her.

Swiftly as an Astigmatism, she whirled around and pinpointed the direction of the explosion—even from the distance, the rising smoke and the flickering light of flames made it hard to overlook it. Murphy spat out another bad word, and went on to jog over to a small blue car, parked flawlessly next to the pedestrian path.

Papyrus felt himself getting giddy. He loved driving.

“Hop in,” she ordered, opening the door to the driver's seat and sliding inside. The engine roared to life not even a second later, and Papyrus just about managed to close the door, tug the cape in and buckle himself to the seat before Murphy stepped on the gas.

“Please tell me she remembered to disguise as a human before she left,” she said, her eyes fast on the road, brows pinched together. Papyrus stiffened.

“I... AM NOT QUITE SURE. I DO HOPE SO.”

“Great. Just... great,” his companion groaned. “How does Dresden keep up with this stuff?”

“WITH MAGIC, I BELIEVE,” Papyrus provided truthfully.

“I _know_ that, I meant... nevermind,” the human female muttered, turning the steering wheel to the left and joining a broader street. Papyrus understood the conversation as temporarily closed and looked forwards instead. They had been following the road for approximately two minutes, when he spotted the scene of the explosion right at a junction; the source of illumination stronger, not quite close enough to spot single flames. Many humans had started to gather next to it—like Whimsuns attracted to the light.

Murphy chose that moment to spit out yet another bad word.

“Spectators,” she hissed. “Every. Single. Time.”

They drew nearer—it would take maybe another minute. Confused by the human police officer's ire, Papyrus tore his disguise-eyes away from the affected building to look at her instead.

“I ASSUME THAT IS A BAD THING?”

“They get in the way of first responders,” she explained, glancing at the side of the road and pulling over when she spotted a niche. She gestured at him to exit the vehicle and both of them took the remaining hundred yards in a light jog.

“Here's betting that none of them used their phones to call for help,” Murphy grumbled, fishing her own phone out of her uniform pocket and dialing a three digit number, before holding it to her ear.

“This is Sgt. Karrin Murphy from the CPD. Request fire brigade in Bucktown, at junction North Wood Street, West Armitage Avenue. Small-range explosion.” Her eyes wandered over the growing commotion in front of the building. “Send an ambulance. … No, I am unharmed, but on my way there with a-” she slowed down, and Papyrus followed her lead, meeting her appraising eye. “With help. I'll try to disperse the crowd. … Yes, gaper's block. … Thank you. Yes, I'll keep going.”

She picked up the pace again, Papyrus following her closely, taking in more details through his black mask. This part of the neighborhoods consisted of taller buildings—including the affected one, which had three levels, with small balconies offering a fine view over the surroundings. It was made out of red bricks and had meticulously cut bushes in its front, which created a neat front row right behind a black, narrow fence.

Being closer to the scene, he finally received a better grasp on the situation, and faltered in his steps.

This was not at all like Undyne's kitchen fires, or Dr. Alphys' experiments-gone-wrong.

Now, he had ample experience with how pitiful a house could look when it was burning down—the broken windows being the very picture of of wide and sad eyes, crying out the flickering flames—and while it always was a most regrettable if foreseeable development of events when Undyne was involved, it never encompassed such a feeling of... misery.

Small families of humans were standing outside, clearly showing signs of dismay of their home burning down in front of them.

An elderly couple was attempting to find a place to sit down, the woman trying to support the man along the way; he was wheezing harshly—something hindering his breathing, presumptively. Then there was a man, clinging to a laptop, pacing up and down and roaring violent curses. And lastly, a young woman, cradling a crying baby, comforting the child almost absently—all the while staring at the flames in horror and disbelief. Every other second, she threw panicked glances at the door—waiting for someone else to come out?

And the crowd of spectators surrounded them, some stares compassionate but hesitating, some simply... blank. Had Papyrus any real skin, he would have felt goosebumps, he was sure of it.

“PISS OFF, you gawking CREEPS!”

Undyne!

There she was, in her human disguise—which did nothing to make her ire less frightening; especially as she did not appear to have bothered changing her eyeball color from her bright yellow into a human egg-white. She had grabbed one of the onlookers by his collar and was throwing him backwards, brimming with fury. The side of the human circle that had to catch the living missile backed away, staring at Undyne with increasing uncertainty.

Papyrus relaxed immediately and got back on track. The captain, as she lived and breathed.

“A bit rough, but got to hand it to her.” He heard Murphy mumble to herself, before she pushed her way through to the victims—naturally with Papyrus closely behind her, ready to give aid.

Murphy gave a short description of the victims through her phone, before speaking to the elderly couple, gently but insistently guiding them towards the other side of the street, away from the burning building; Undyne acknowledged her presence with a devilish grin, understanding that she had silent approval to continue with her herding.

Papyrus nodded, determined. Knowing what to do, he waltzed over to the angry man with the laptop. From a distance, he could hear the sounds of sirens.

“HUMA- MISTER, I MUST ASK YOU TO DISTANCE YOURSELF FROM THE HOUSE!”

The human male looked at him, his eyes lingering on his impeccable hero-costume for a second—and _scoffed_.

“The hell are you?”

“IT IS VERY NICE OF YOU TO ASK; HOWEVER!” Papyrus pointed out. “YOU MIGHT NOT, IN FACT, BE STANDING IN A SAFE SPOT.”

“Screw off, weirdo,” the human spat; clearly in shock from his loss. Papyrus understood the issue for what it was, excused the man's manner of speech and prepared to pick him up and carry him over—when a distraught cry from the woman with the baby drew his attention to her instead. Why try to debate with the human male, when she was so obviously more in need of aid!

“Henry!” She cried, her hand outstretched towards the burning building. Clutching her wailing baby, she attempted to get up from the tarred floor, but couldn't muster up the strength. He hurried over to her, cape dragging behind him.

“MISS! MAY I OFFER MY ASSISTANCE?” he declared, getting down on one knee. The woman jolted and gazed at him. For a moment, confusion spread over her face when she eyed his get-up; Papyrus damned his costume for its shock-worthy magnificence.

“M-my husband is still in there,” she stuttered out in the end, frozen in place. Then the truth of her statement seeped through her and the tears returned. “My Henry! Oh God!” With buckling knees, she managed to stand up this time, stumbling a few steps towards the building. Then she stared back down at the baby in her arms, and she stopped, uncertain.

Meanwhile, the sirens had closed in, accompanied by the sight of a group of rapidly approaching vehicles. These had to be the reinforcements Murphy had called for!

“Miss, we need to get you out of the way,” the respective female human's voice chimed in. Papyrus looked up, meeting Murphy's concerned, but firm eyes for a split second before she turned all of her focus back on the young woman and her baby. Another scan of the area showed him the progress Undyne had made in dispersing the crowd—unsurprisingly, her approach had showed effective. There was enough space, indeed, for Murphy's reinforcements to make their way through; a new set of rather interesting uniforms, Papyrus noted. Like a group of well-trained Migosps, a troop of humans exited the biggest rectangle-shaped truck and buzzed into action, pulling various gadgets out of the freighter's backside, while a broad-shouldered, dark-skinned male advanced towards Murphy, the human mother and her child, and him.

“Sergeant Murphy? I was informed you made the call. Can you give us any-”

A skull-crushing, rumbling crash came from the burning building, followed by a wave of heat and a bright burst of fire shooting out, setting the row of bushes aflame. Papyrus veiled his eyes and stared at the house.

The uniformed human male cursed.

“Floor caved in,” he said; his words bringing about a high-pitched wail from the young mother, laced with her child's distressed sobs.

“Henry... my Henry, he's still in there!”

The male human's eyes darkened, flickered over to the building in its current state, and then shared a brief, meaningful glance with Murphy, who straightened up and commenced with her list of noteworthy information. Papyrus, unable to bear the young mother's desperate cries for help anymore, unnoticed by both Murphy and the male human, clasped the distraught woman's shoulders and stared at her intently.

“WHICH FLOOR IS HE IN?”

He _had_ to help. As effective the bustling group of humans seemed to work, they had only just arrived—and, were they to enter the building, may be at danger likewise! Murphy would certainly understand.

He had to help. Because he _could_.

It helped that the intimidating female was preoccupied for the moment and as such unable to take notice of his course of action.

“Up-Upper one,” she whispered, staring at him, somewhat unnerved. He presented her with his most dashing human-veil smile, to fan a spark of hope in her that surely was there!

“NOT TO WORRY, HUMA- YOUNG FEMALE! I WILL BRING YOU YOUR MATE!” He exclaimed, pointing at his chest to further instill her confidence in him. He turned, and spotted that one of the groups of uniformed humans had started shooting water at the inferno. Following a bright idea at the top of his skull, he unclipped his cape, gathered his strength and magic in his legs, ran over and jumped up, ten, twelve feet high. Right into the steady, powerful water stream, drenching the cape in seconds and pressing it close to his body, with a strength that made it stick to him. The power of the stream knocked him several feet towards the building, before it suddenly let up.

Leaving behind the shouts of the fire-fighting troop, a mix of bewilderment and annoyance, Papyrus managed to grab onto the first-floor balcony at the house front, pulled himself up and hurled his veiled body up towards the next floor. His dripping wet hero gloves got a hold of the next balcony railing.

It was boiling hot inside the building, and the smoke would have stolen his breath—luckily, he did not need to breathe, but it still blocked his vision.

“GIVE IT UP, FIRE! YOU HAVE FOUND YOUR MASTER IN ME: PAPYRUS!” He defied the aggressive flames that attacked his actual body beneath the veil. Determined, he waded forward, eyes flickering over the ground. It seemed as if the collapsed part of the building had been the floor beneath him, though it did not take away from the destruction the initial explosion had brought. Broken furniture, splinters of wall and wooden equipment were scattered all over the once whole flat. Next to a hole in the wall that used to hold a door, there was a once big and heavy wardrobe that had fallen over. And beneath it...

Papyrus let out a shout of excitement. In an instant, he was at the man's side and scanned him for injuries with his healing magic, before confirming that he could—probably—safely drag the man out from under the needlessly grand clothes-holder. As such, he grabbed the edges of the wardrobe, gathered all the strength he had—which was, admittedly, not a lot—and managed to lift it, if just a few inches.

Sweating profusely—or was it his skull melting?, Papyrus applied his levitation magic to the unconscious male and floated him forwards—just in time before he had to let go of the wardrobe again and falling on his behind from exhaustion. With a loud crash, the piece of furniture collapsed to the ground, immediately catching fire.

Papyrus scrambled to his feet, pealed his still drenched cape from his side, threw it over the whole length of the male human and bunched the sides underneath the man's body. For a second, he debated levitating the unconscious form towards the window, but decided against it, when he felt his strength leave his body. Keeping up the veil and fending off the heat had drained him.

Grasping the limp body as best he could, Papyrus didn't stop to think again, and staggered towards his exit. His vision was growing blurrier by the second.

If only he could—

Another pressure blast rolled over him from behind, flinging him towards the window. Grabbing onto the human in an attempt to shield him from debris and the flames, Papyrus clang to only one focus:

Do not let go of the veil.

* * *

“IDIOT! You freakin'... WAKE UP! Do NOT do this to me right now!”

A slap to the cheek, the distinct smell of hard, passionate training and equally hard fish muscle.

“You are NOT allowed to, GET IT?! You bonehead!”

Papyrus opened his eyes, greeted by the sight of Undyne's faux-human face right over him. Her control was wavering—the teeth pointy, the nose almost gone, her skin a pale tint of blue. His superior instantly flashed a wide, toothy grin and yanked his torso upwards into a tight hug.

“Freakin' DOLT... you freakin' crazy dolt...”

A bit groggy but always happy about affection shown to him, he returned the action, attaining a clear view of what had come to pass during his unconscious state by looking over Undyne's shoulder.

Apparently it had included a dimensional vortex which had swallowed all the humans, the building on fire and left a surrounding park in its wake instead.

Aha! Undyne had sneaked away, dragging him with her. To...

“UNDYNE? WHERE ARE WE?”

She let go and got up, crossing her bare arms.

“Heck if I know. Just caught you and that guy you dragged out, dropped him and took you... elsewhere.” Slowly, her disguise improved again—which called Papyrus' attention to a whole other issue. Excited for proof of success, he tested his own veil—and was bitterly disappointed.

Undyne spoke his thoughts out-loud.

“You were turning skeleton mid-fall. Glad your weird-ass costume covered most of it, I don't think anyone saw.” She chuckled mischievously. “The cop's gonna throw a hissy fit. Went off the deep end when she got that you just jumped in there. Seriously though-” She bent down, throwing the pointed glare he knew she had practiced numerous times in front of a mirror. “What the hell was that? You almost _fell down_ , stupid!”

_Fallen down._ The state Monsters entered shortly before turning to dust. He had to admit, it was a highly disturbing thought to have been so close to that particular form. But then again, he had, indeed, _not_ fallen down. Conclusion: No need to worry any further!

“WHAT ABOUT THE MALE HUMAN?”

“Don't know, and don't really care,” Undyne replied bitterly. “Who's too stupid to get out in time? His woman and his crying spawn managed just fine!”

On his mute plea, she rolled her eyes.

“Think he'll be fine,” she offered. “Had to leave him in your cape, sorry, Papyrus.”

A huge personal loss, indeed; but one he was willing to make for the human's survival.

Undyne offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet, gripping his shoulder with an appreciative grin.

“Know what? Your rescue was stupid, but pretty metal, nerd! Just don't go alone next time!”

Papyrus beamed. “SO THERE WILL BE A NEXT TIME!”

The veiled fish faltered, her grin turning into a nervous smile. “Uh... let's go find the cop's house first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo. I still love the prospect of Papyrus assuming the mantle of a superhero.  
> And I still am willing to go through with it. I just couldn't find a way around Murphy, at least not for now - characteristically speaking, I think she would be a lot more against the idea. Harry is somewhat of a vigilante himself (well, now with his Warden status not anymore, I guess, but still), so I figured he wouldn't oppose it as much.  
> It's been quite some time since I was part of the voluntary fire brigade in my village, so I was never really involved in any serious cases. I was looking for protocols of how Chicago firefighters would most likely approach a situation like the one in this chapter, but I couldn't find as much as I would have liked. It left me with a rather interesting search history of "house fires, distance; house fire destruction/explosion; emergency calls explosion...", but not much else.  
> That's why I ended up with most of the official action left in the background and concentrating more on Papyrus' stunts alone. Helps that he's somewhat of an unreliable narrator.  
> If anyone notices anything amiss when it comes to authenticity of Chicago city life and its workings, please do tell me, as I'm completely out of my comfort zone here - being neither American, nor a city-person.


End file.
